


He Will Never Be Satisfied

by Tobias_Croweaux



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton Needs Sleep, Boarding School, F/M, George Washington is a Dad, Hamilton References, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, M/M, Multi, Other, Thomas Jefferson Being an Asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-04-18 23:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 21,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14224200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobias_Croweaux/pseuds/Tobias_Croweaux
Summary: Alexander Hamilton gets a scholarship to a boarding school in Virginia, leaving his old life in Charlestown behind for a better education. Anxious and doubtful of his future, Alex tries to adapt to his new school and his 'odd' friends.





	1. Don't Forget From Whence You Came - Prologue

Alexander Hamilton had never left Nevis.

Of course, he had _planned_ to. It wasn’t like he could stay in Charlestown forever – but he had always planned to leave later. He didn’t know when he had planned to get out, but he was confident that it wasn’t as a petrified fifteen-year-old child. No matter how many times Alex assured himself that he was in fact, not a child in mindset, but only in a physical sense, he continued to feel petrified. Afraid as he was, he was still Alexander Hamilton, ‘the Charlestown child prodigy’, who had managed to wrangle himself a scholarship to attend a boarding school in Virginia, USA.

At first, the scholarship had been a thing of awe to the people of Charlestown, especially considering it was given to the youngest orphan child of the late Rachel Faucette. Comments like, ‘He’s done us all proud,’ and ‘I bet his mother’s looking down happily at him from heaven,’ were passed around on a daily basis, constant rumours flooding the area about his new school, gossip about the great things that A. Hamilton of Charlestown, Nevis would accomplish.

Alex didn’t feel that way **at all**.

He had never been prone to self-doubt – he was far ahead of his peers, and he was told as much by his teachers. But the words of his elder brother kept coming back to him, haunting him with every step he took on to the plane.

‘You’re a big fish in a small pond,’ James had slurred the night Alex had alerted him about the chance of a scholarship. ‘Charlestown _isn’t anything._ Being some child genius in Charlestown isn’t a big deal. You’re gonna go to Virginia, and these kids will all be richer, smarter and better than you in every way. You’re just going to get your ass kicked, Alex. I love you and all that stuff, but you stand no chance against these other kids. Better to just stay and be the smartest child here.’

Logically, James Hamilton had a point. In a bigger pond, there were bound to be bigger fish. Charlestown barely had a population of 1,500 compared to Virginia’s colossal 8,470,000.

Hell, Virginia wasn’t a pond. Virginia was a sea.

Truthfully, Alex knew his older brother loved him. When their mom passed away a few years ago, James had been the only close family he had left. On the other hand, James was a 17-year-old unemployed alcoholic, and hadn’t been able to do much, meaning Alex was left to pay the bills, or, as much as he could of them. Despite Alex’s constant off-hand comments about how much cheaper it would be if James didn’t exist at all, he loved his brother too. Part of him didn’t even want to apply for the scholarship in the first place, in case he got it and had to leave James on his own.

 _James would be fine, James would be fine, James would be fine._ Alex figured that if he said this enough to himself, he would trick his mind in to thinking it. James would get a job, and he would pay his taxes. He wouldn’t be able to, but he would try.

Alex wasn’t proud of himself. His mother probably wasn’t either, and while watching down from heaven, she’d see how untalented her ‘genius’ son really was compared to the rest of the world.

So, as he boarded the plane, shaking with nerves, Alexander Hamilton couldn’t help but feel a bit unsatisfied.


	2. I'm Alexander Hamilton, I'm at your service, sir.

Alexander Hamilton had never been on a plane.

Of course, he knew about them. He had read books and articles about the different types of planes, about piloting a plane, about the engine itself. His mind was prepared for the experience – he had made absolute sure that he knew as much as possible about the possible death-machine he would be entrusting his life to.

His body, however, was not.

Within a matter of three hours, Alex had gone through four sick bags, seven cups of water, and three trips to the cramped bathroom at the back of the plane. The two passengers that sat beside him had got so annoyed with his frequent requests to the air hostess that they switched seats, giving Alex the aisle seat. He desperately wanted to read the books on American Constitutional Law that he had brought on the plane for some light reading, but he could barely reach down to grab his bag, never mind trying to absorb 400 pages of information.

It was, at this moment, that Alex made the conclusion that despite the machines being incredible man-made wonders, he hated planes with a burning passion. What kind of monster tries to separate a boy from his books? If he landed in Virginia without knowing a single thing about constitutional law, he’d be an embarrassment. They might even take away his scholarship. So, with a heavy chest and an incredibly light-head, he started reading. He couldn’t lose his scholarship.

That would mean another flight.

* * *

‘Are you okay, son?’

‘I’m _fine_ , thank you, ma’am.’ No one distracted Alex from his reading, no matter how sick he felt. The woman sitting across from him in the other aisle should have known better - even if Alex was on his twelfth sick bag. He glanced up for a mere second, and saw the woman looking over at him with interest. He didn’t have time for this. He was on page 309, and they only had an hour left of the flight.

‘We’ll be landing soon enough,’ she assured in a sickly-sweet tone, nearly…motherly. He didn’t want that at all.

‘I know. _I’m not stupid._ I heard the announcement.’

‘Oh, right, of course,’ she chuckled, taken aback by the boy’s directness. ‘What are you reading?’

‘Nothing special,’ he frowned, flicking the page furiously, studying it carefully. This woman was really starting to annoy him now. Any average person would be able to pick up that Alex wasn’t keen on having a conversation at this time.

‘Are your parents in different seats?’

‘No, unfortunately, they’re not around anymore. Please just let me enjoy my book, thank you,’ Alex snapped angrily. The woman looked at him in shock, before quickly turning away. He instantly regretted it – his mother had always complained that he was shockingly snappy if he didn’t sleep in a while.

Alexander Hamilton wasn’t made for sleep. He was made to do taxes, and accounts, and billings, and numbers. Sleep wasn’t on the agenda.

He couldn’t wait for this torture to end.

* * *

 

‘ _You’re_ Alexander Hamilton?’ the taxi driver laughed, looking down at the boy. Alexander was small, and he was skinny, and he hardly looked fifteen. Twelve, maybe, and even that was pushing it.

‘Yes sir, I am, sir,’ Alex replied, quickly reaching into his bag and looking for his passport frantically.

‘And you are sure you’re going to Mount Vernon Boarding School? Are you sure you aren’t in elementary or-’

‘Sir, I’m fifteen. I swear I’m going to Mount Vernon Boarding,’ Alex interrupted, trying to put his shoulders back to appear slightly taller. He had always been small, especially compared to some of the other kids his age.

There was an odd pause, until the taxi driver started again, ‘…Right, then. I’d like to take you there right now, but we have two students coming from France who are going to the same destination in a few minutes, so if you don’t mind waiting for them, we’ll leave when they arrive.’

France. **_French._**

Alex had revised his constitutional law, but he hadn’t looked over his French vocabulary. He had never spoken French to anyone but his mother, so he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to speak it in front of an actual French citizen. His lack of preparations frustrated him – he was never this unorganised. Running over random sentences in his head, he didn’t even notice someone approaching.

‘Do you know what he’s saying?’ he heard the stranger ask the driver. Alex hadn’t even realised he was muttering out loud. Now he’d look like even more of a fool. Maybe his brother was right. Maybe the flight home wouldn’t be as bad as the embarrassment he’d bring to himself.

‘Absolutely no clue, Mr. Jefferson. Is Mr. Du Motier with you?’

‘He was behind me. I don’t know where he went. He’s always running off,’ the stranger complained, but shrugging it off near instantly. Alex took a quick glance of the boy standing in front of him, trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. He was much, much taller. A giant. Alex was barely 5’1, and this boy was probably around 5’11, possibly six feet. Slim, lanky, his features bold, and his stance full of confidence, as if this sort of situation was typical. 

'Ah, I see. Well, he can’t be too far behind. Mr Jefferson, this is Mr. Hamilton,’ the driver stated, pointing over at Alex without even looking at him directly.

‘Alexander Hamilton, but most people call me Alex, actually,’ he corrected, frowning. Mr. Hamilton wasn’t what he wanted to be called. He hadn’t heard ‘Mr. Hamilton’ since his dad-

‘Alexander Hamilton? That’s a bit of a mouthful,’ the boy sighed. ‘Well, I’m Thomas Jefferson.’

‘What part of France do you come from?’ Alex tried, failing to make small talk.

Thomas clearly paused, and replied dismissively, ‘I’m not from France. I was on holiday.’

He continued to pursue him questions – did he speak French, how long was he away for, but Thomas continued to answer with few words.

Alex quickly sensed that Thomas Jefferson was, in fact, not very happy at all to meet him.

‘There he is,’ the driver muttered. ‘What a handful that boy is.’ Alexander heard the rush of heavy foot steps banging against the cold airport floor. In the distance, he could make out a figure, dragging along several suitcases, while still managing to jog towards them.

‘ _That_ , Alexander Hamilton,’ Thomas laughed, ‘is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayette, Marquis de La Fayette.’

...Hamilton could already sense it would be a long drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I currently have no clue how updates will work, but I'll try and update as much as possible.  
> I'm sorry for the awful chapter.


	3. These Kids Are Insane, Man.

Alexander Hamilton had never met an overexcited Frenchman before, and he certainly had not planned to.

‘My name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayette, Marquis de La Fayette, but I don’t expect you to remember that, mon ami,’ the French boy chuckled, introducing himself as they walked to the taxi park. He had a thick French accent that he was shocked to hear at first, but was quite soothing after a moment or two.

‘Oh, right, Marie-Joseph,’ Alex stuttered. What do you call a person with that many names?

As the French boy burst into a fit of laughter, with a small snicker from Thomas, Alex quickly realised that was not it.

‘Lafayette is fine. Laf, even if you want. I don’t get called my first name much,’ he replied, having to take pauses to catch his breath for laughing as much as he did.

‘Oh, right. I’m sorry,’ Alex sighed. He was already starting to doubt his decision to accept the scholarship – he was making a fool of himself, and they both seemed to be looking at him like he was an idiot.

‘No problem at all! It happens all the time,’ Lafayette assured. In seconds, Lafayette had snatched the boarding pass that Alex had been gripping tightly ever since he got off the plane and was reading it carefully. ‘Nevis, huh? I’ve never been there. Is it nice?’

‘Ah…no, not really,’ Alexander hesitated. Upon seeing Lafayette’s face fall, he quickly corrected himself. ‘But that’s just my opinion, and I’m a pessimist. I bet you’d like it. It can be really nice at times. We get a lot of tourists.’

As they approached the taxi, Alex caught Thomas rolling his eyes slightly at his comment. Clearly, Alex and Jefferson weren’t going to be too close of friends. Thomas swung the door open of the front seat of the car, a quiet mutter of, ‘Shotgun,’ being faintly heard.

‘Are you a transfer? Or do you come here every year for school? How does it work?’ Alex tested Lafayette as the two boys climbed into the back seat. He didn’t want to be the only transfer student showing up, his small size already made him stand out enough.

‘I attended ninth grade last year, but my uncle demanded me home for the summer,’ Laf complained, running his hand through his messy hair. His voice dropped as he whispered, ‘He’s quite lame, always making me hang out with Jefferson. I’d much rather stayed with Monsieur Washington. He usually allows the transfer students to stay with him over the breaks.’

‘Monsieur Washington?’

‘A teacher. You’ll meet him soon. Most people like him, and he’ll probably like you too, as long as you aren’t an ass. I don’t think you are though, unlike Jefferson,’ he confirmed, raising his voice at the end.

‘ _Shut up,_ ’ Thomas snapped, turning around to glance at them.

‘’Tis the truth, is it not, mon ami?’ the French boy smiled. For once, Alex let out a small laugh. It was the first time he felt comfortable since he decided to take the scholarship. Maybe he and Laf could be friends. Maybe he could actually have some friends. No, that would never happen. No one his age liked him back home, it certainly wouldn’t be any different.

Lafayette noticed Alex’s silence, and nudged him slightly. ‘So,’ Laf started, staring at Alex, ‘what about you?

‘What?’

‘Are you a transfer student?’

‘I guess. I’m on a scholarship,’ Alex murmured, trying to make sure Thomas wasn’t able to hear him from the front seat.

He did.

‘ _What?_ I didn’t know you played sports,’ Thomas mocked.

Alex felt his whole body heating up in fury. He’d been insulted before, but never in only a few minutes of meeting someone. How dare he insult his intelligence, how dare this scum of earth even challenge the brain power he had.

‘It’s not a sports scholarship, you jerk,’ Alex hissed, his hands tightening into fists. ‘It’s an academic scholarship.’ 

'You? An academic scholarship? As if. You probably just got accepted out of pity,’ Thomas retorted, casting a cool glance over at Alex.

‘ ** _Did not._** I did not. I’m not stupid, you ass,’ Alex shouted, his hand reaching to undo his seatbelt, staring Thomas deep in the eye. He knew he wouldn’t be able to reach anywhere near him with it on, and he needed to get a good few punches in-

CLICK.

He looked down, and saw the seatbelt done again, Lafayette’s hand covering the buckle.

‘No point in fighting him, mon ami. You’ll just get in trouble,’ Lafayette assured calmly.

‘But-’

‘Be the bigger man.’

‘ _Is that some sort of joke?_ ’ Alex demanded, not sure if he should laugh or frown.

A look of realisation crossed Lafayette’s face as he remembered how small Alexander Hamilton really was, and he let out a soft giggle.

* * *

 Alex had never seen a school as large as Mount Vernon Boarding School. The school’s in Charlestown were small, and a lot of kids didn’t even bother going a lot of the time. But this school – it’s large, brick exterior loomed over him, students paced about in groups, laughing with each other in the sun. He had never even seen this many people in one place-

‘LAFAYETTE!’ he heard a yell from behind him, as a boy threw himself at Laf. 

‘Herc! How was your summer?’

‘Good, good. Would have been better if your uncle didn’t drag you off to France,’ he laughed, placing a kiss on Lafayette’s cheek. Alex quickly turned away in embarrassment, but Lafayette had already caught him staring.

‘Alex! This is Hercules Mulligan, my boyfriend,’ Lafayette pronounced proudly.

‘Hercules Mulligan, this is Alexander Hamilton, mon ami.’

‘You could have just said friend, he might not even agree with gay relationships,’ he heard Hercules whisper to Laf. Alex instantly gulped nervously, but held out his shaking hand to Hercules.

‘I-It’s fine, really,’ Alex insisted, ‘I’m bi, actually, so it’s, I mean it isn’t like I have anything against any sort of relationship, because it’s just not right and-’

‘Maybe we could set you up with John! He’s bi, too,’ Lafayette exclaimed. ‘You’d be perfect. I’ll have to tell him.’

‘John?’

‘John Laurens. He’s an old friend of ours,’ Hercules sighed. ‘Laf, you know I love you but we shouldn’t go setting anyone up this early. School hasn't even officially started yet, and it doesn't for another two days.’

Lafayette had already pushed Hercules out of his arms, grinning like a madman. ‘I’ll go find him,’ he stated, kissing his boyfriend before taking off full speed, rushing to the building. Hercules sighed half-heartedly, looking at the bags of luggage that Lafayette had left on the pavement. There were four full-size cases, and Alex could only wonder what he had in them, considering he only had one himself. As soon as he saw Herc try and lift all four, he quickly grabbed one off him, and his favour was returned with a considerate smile.

‘You know, Alex,’ Herc started, ‘I do love the guy, but he’s _insane_ , man.’


	4. You're The Only Enemy You Ever Seem To Lose To

Alexander Hamilton had never been attracted to anybody as fast as he was attracted to John Laurens.

He was just genuinely a beautiful human being. His brown locks were tired up into a messy ponytail, his nervous eyes looking around desperately at Lafayette, his mouth closed shut, pouting at the French man dragging him. He wasn’t like anyone he had met before.

‘Alex, meet John, John, meet Alex, isn’t he lovely? He’s from Nevis – that’s in the Caribbean – you like exotic men, don’t you?’ Lafayette informed, smiling back and forth between Alex and John.

‘I wouldn’t be too picky if I was you, Laurens,’ a voice came from behind them. ‘I mean, look at you.’

‘Lay off, Thomas,’ Hercules warned, turning to face the figure. Thomas Jefferson was striding towards them, an entourage following him. ‘If I was Angelica, I certainly would not be dating you of all people.’

‘Pfft,’ Thomas frowned, walking past them. ‘At least I’m not dating some weird baguette thing, Mulligan.’

A boy beside Jefferson burst out laughing, ‘That’s a good one, Thomas.’

‘Yeah, I know, James,’ Thomas barked in reply, walking out of sight. Alex made a mental note to avoid that group as much as possible.

‘Who’s Angelica?’ Alex muttered to Laf. Lafayette seemed to know everyone, and as far as Alex knew, he didn’t hate him. No matter how intelligent Alex was, Lafayette seemed to be naturally smart in a different way.

‘Angelica Schuyler, the oldest of the Schuyler sisters. Too good for Thomas, mon ami.’

‘There’s…multiple?’

‘Three, but the youngest one isn’t at this school. She’s too young.’

‘Oh. Right.’ If he had more money, he could have brought his brother with him. His brother wouldn’t have got a scholarship, sure, but if they could have afforded it, maybe he could have had a better education and even have a job. Without any logical reasoning, he was already starting to dislike the Schuyler sisters. An odd silence surrounded the group, no one knowing what to say.

‘Do you have any siblings?’ John asked Alex nervously. It was at this moment Alex caught a glance of John’s eyes – dark brown, the kind of eyes that could bury you deep in the earth, eyes that you could stare at for hours on end.

‘Um, no. You?’ Alex stumbled. It was better if they didn’t know about James. He didn’t want them to know that he was that poor – judging by their clothes, they all came from well-off families. Maybe if they knew he didn’t, they wouldn’t want to hang out with him anymore.

‘Yeah, two brothers, two sisters. They’re okay, but they’re annoying all the time. I guess it’s easier being an only child then. Your parents must pamper you.’

‘T-They’re not around much,’ Alex murmured, instantly looking down, trying to avoid eye contact, even though he desperately wanted to look at Laurens.

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Must be hard to have your parents working all the time.’

* * *

 

The inside of the school was just as magnificent as the outside – it maintained an English manor-like style, but modern facilities were hard not to spot. Brick walls surrounded them, and as the four boys walked down the main corridor, Lafayette confidently leading, Alex couldn’t help but feel oddly at home in the group, and in the school itself. As they turned a corner, Alex saw a large board with printed sheets pinned neatly against it.

He had completely forgot about room arrangements.

 

Scanning through the names he quickly, it only took him a few seconds to spot his name. ‘Guess we’re together like last year,’ Hercules nudged Lafayette with a small smirk in his face.

Alex turned to see a gigantic frown growing on John’s face, before he spat out, ‘James Madison.’

‘Tough luck, buddy,’ Laf sympathised. ‘I mean, he’s not the worst. He’ll probably just be hanging around Jefferson a lot, so he might not even be in the room much.’

‘Yeah, I guess you’re right,’ John smiled feebly. ‘What about you, Alex?’

‘Thomas goddamn Jefferson.’

* * *

 

‘Stay on one side, I’ll stay on the other,’ Thomas ordered as Alex swung the door open of room 137.

‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ Alex retorted, closing the door with a bang. He quickly moved to the left side of the room. There was a small bathroom on the right side (which was unfortunately Jefferson’s area), two single beds on opposite sides, a small chest of drawers on both sides and two desks. Not a bad room, and the furniture was better quality then what Alex had at home.

It would have been so much nicer if his roommate wasn’t Jefferson, of all people. Grabbing his case, he flung it open and started unpacking what belongings he had. His clothes, his general necessities, and the framed picture he had brought from home – his mother, him and James all standing outside their house, both brothers in their old school uniforms. It was one of the only photos that was ever taken of his mother, and he carried it around everywhere.

‘I need to go to the bathroom,’ he murmured to Thomas, crossing over to his side. His desk was already set up with laptop and a speaker, technology that Alex couldn’t dream of affording. His bed was made, his cases empty and neatly slid under his bed.

‘Go to a different one,’ Thomas shrugged.

‘That’s stupid. I’m going to this one.’

Walking into the bathroom, Alex couldn’t help but be relieved. It was the first time since getting off the plane that he was alone. Frowning, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was a mess.

He didn’t deserve to be here, he didn’t belong here. This was a stupid decision, this wasn’t what was supposed to happen, he was supposed to be smart. He was supposed to be talented, he was supposed to go to this school and impress it, and then impress the world.

He wasn’t even impressing himself.


	5. Man, The Man is Non-Stop.

Alexander Hamilton had never hated a roommate as much as he hated Thomas Jefferson.

Thomas Jefferson had a mutual reaction to Alexander Hamilton.

That night, Alex decided to stay up to read through the student guidelines. He soon figured out that Thomas, was in fact, one of those people who actually _enjoyed_ sleeping. After several heated arguments, Alex won the right to keep the light on, but Thomas spent the whole time complaining instead of sleeping.

‘This is ridiculous,’ Jefferson moaned through his pillow. He was lying face down on his bed, nearly in tears. ‘Just go to sleep, Hamilton. It’s 3:27a.m. No normal person is up at this hour.’

‘You got to read the student guidelines last year, I didn’t,’ Alex hissed in response.

‘ _No one_ reads the student guidelines, you idiot. Get to sleep. Didn’t you go to sleep at home?’ Thomas twisted his head around to look at his roommate. Books already cluttered Alex’s desk, some flung on the floor, others in messy stacks. Alex leaned over his desk, his head in his hands, constantly murmuring to himself.

‘Not much, no,’ was the boy’s reply. Thomas hated this kid, but he wasn’t such an ass that he could just let this kid stay up later than this. As much as he hated to admit it, Alex was smart, and he was an interesting person to debate with, and he didn’t want the kid to collapse in the middle of class. That would just disrupt his learning. With a huff, Thomas threw his blanket off, and walked over to Alex’s desk.

‘What are you-’

He slammed Alex’s book down and grabbed Alex’s hands. ‘Sleep. Now. If you don’t sleep, you’ll just be a pain in class later. I don’t have the energy to deal with your I’m-too-good-to-sleep crap right now.’ Alex scrunched up his face, pulling his hand’s away from Jefferson’s grasp. He sauntered over to his bed, collapsing on to it in a matter of seconds.

Finally.

It was about time that the light in the room went off, especially when Thomas remembered that one of the student guidelines was lights out by midnight.

* * *

 

The next morning, the two boys didn’t even bother making small talk.

Thomas Jefferson sat, slouched over in his chair, reading an article on his laptop, while Alexander scanned through his textbooks. Alex figured that he better be prepared for the classes that started tomorrow. He couldn’t remember what happened at all last night, and knowing his jerk of a roommate, he didn’t want to. There was a loud knock on the door, and voices murmuring outside.

Obviously it was Thomas’ entourage.

He’d probably have to leave if he wanted to finish studying at all. Alex heard his roommate’s chair skate back, and glanced over at him as he opened the door. It wasn’t who he expected at all – it was Laf, Herc and John.

They hadn’t forgotten him.

‘Mon ami!’ Laf exclaimed, pushing past Thomas with a huge grin on his face. Looking at Alex and his desk, he burst out laughing, grabbing the textbook from him. ‘What are you reading?’

‘I _was_ reading about modern history, but I’m not anymore,’ Alex pouted, trying to grab the book back. His attempt failed horribly, and Lafayette tossed the book at Hercules instead.

‘Is that your mom?’ Alex hadn’t even noticed John staring at the picture on his desk.

‘Yeah, it’s my mom. That’s my friend, too,’ Alex replies anxiously, pointing to his brother.

‘Your mom’s hot,’ Hercules commented, peering down at the picture.

‘Can I remind you, _mon petit copain_ , that you’re literally standing right beside your sexy French boyfriend?’ Lafayette complained to Hercules. A snigger came from across the room, Thomas failing not to laugh.

‘Anyway, John suggested that we show you around.’

‘W-we all decided to, what are you talking about?’ John stammered, looking at Lafayette angrily. The French boy simply chuckled, and threw his arm over his friend.

‘Oh, come on, mon ami, we know exactly why-’ Lafayette started, earning a swift kick from John, and a groan from the French boy.

‘He’s loopy,’ John assured Alex, a small smile forming on his face. ‘Jet lag, you know? These French are insane.’ Alex gave a small nod in response, while Hercules chuckled at his boyfriend in pain.

‘If you’re going to show him around, why don’t you just go?’ Thomas barked. ‘I’m trying to look at something here, and you aren’t helping.’

‘Sorry, we’re going now,’ Lafayette grinned, pulling Alex from his chair. Usually, Hamilton would have protested, but he couldn’t help but smile at Lafayette’s excitement. This was okay. This was fun.

He was going to have fun.

* * *

 

‘And this is the History corridor,’ Lafayette declared. 'They teach the best type of history – French history. They teach other types too, but French is the best. By far. No point arguing.’

‘Who are you trying to sell French history to this time, Lafayette?’ an amused voice announced, coming from behind them. Alex turned to see the person – tall, around six foot one, six foot two, easily towering over him. He had short brown hair, dark, sea-like eyes, and walked towards the group of boys elegantly.

‘Monsieur Washington!’ Lafayette bellowed, rushing towards him.

‘Nice to see you too, buddy,’ Washington laughed. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Oh, I’m just showing a new friend around,’ was the nonchalant reply, before motioning over to Alex.

‘Alexander Hamilton, sir,’ Alex stuttered out, having to twist his neck up to make eye contact with the man.

‘Nice to meet you, Alexander,’ Washington responded, holding his hand out. Alex gripped it quickly, and wasn’t surprised that the man had an incredibly strong handshake. He tried to replicate the strength, making Washington smile softly.

‘You’ve a good handshake.’ 

'Thank you, sir,’ Alex grinned. He rarely got acknowledged for his strength, and in this school, he doubted he’d get acknowledged for his intelligence either.

‘Long time no see, sir,’ John waved politely. ‘Looking forward to another year of history, sir.’

‘I’ll have to remind you of that comment when you start complaining about the amount of homework I’m giving you.’


	6. What'd I Miss?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of backstory.

George Washington had been in charge of all the scholarship kids that came to Mount Vernon. Usually, he only had one job - to make sure they all went to good colleges and tried their best in either sports or their academics.

Then Thomas Jefferson came along.

He'd known the boy ever since he was a baby - he was good friends with the Jefferson's, and had met them at many formal dinners. He'd seen Thomas grow up, and he knew exactly how bright he was. Never-ending 100% scores were recorded at his previous schools, and as soon as he was old enough, George had been quick to offer him a scholarship.

He didn't expect to adopt the lad.

During his final month of his old school, a crash happened on Thomas' way home.

His parents died on impact.

The court argued that since he was attending a boarding school, there was really no need for adoption or foster care.

'Why don't we adopt him?' Martha had stated after Washington had told her about the situation. 'Do you like him? I've never had a problem with the Jefferson's.'

'I don't _mind_ him,' George sighed. 'He's argumentative, and cocky, but he isn't a bad kid.'

And so they had. He was a boarder, so he didn't live with them most of the time - he only stayed with them when the school had week-long breaks, or Christmas breaks.

Lafayette, another one of his students stayed with them during these breaks. He was an orphan too, but his uncle had sent him over to the school from France, and couldn't take him home until the summer. Washington agreed to take him in for the rest of the year as long as Thomas could go with Lafayette to France in the summer. He felt like the poor kid deserved some sort of vacation. 

The two boys didn't get along shockingly well - but Martha argued that no boys really did.

Martha's children had left a long time ago, so Martha was quite glad on the rare occasion that the two boys stayed in the house. She fawned over them to no end - George presumed that Martha had spent more money that Christmas on those two than he had spent in his life. She wasn't the only one though.

George, having had no sons, was secretly ecstatic about having both the boys. He'd never tell them though.

* * *

 Alexander always excelled at school. Sure, he'd expected that this school would be harder, more advanced, and he was right. There was more to learn, more notes to take, more formulas to memorise.

What he hadn't expected was half his classmates to be asleep during the morning class.  
There was Alex, buzzing and excited for his first Spanish class, and there was Lafayette.

Asleep.

'I'm _French_ ,' Lafayette had complained before entering the class. 'I don't need to know Spanish.'

'But-'

'You can take down notes, and a few days before the test, I'll copy them,' Laf grinned. 'Why do you think I switched my schedule to go to your morning classes? Hercules, as wonderful as he is, doesn't take notes, _mon ami,_ and I'm not failing half my classes again this year.'

Alex had just laughed at this comment. In a strange way, he felt quite pleased with himself - he had worried that after meeting the rest of his new companion's friends that he wouldn't have a place among them, or he wouldn't contribute anything and they'd kick him out soon enough; he couldn't help smiling at the fact this wasn't the case.

Lafayette wanted him around, and he didn't care what it was for.

* * *

 'Oh, that's _bad_ ,' Jefferson laughed, his eyes skimming over Alex's schedule.

'Get off my side of the room.'

'Geez, I was going to give you some advice on your classes, but whatever,' Thomas huffed, mumbling something under his breath as he retreated to his own desk.

Alex sighed. He knew he'd overreacted. He was just annoyed at himself - he hadn't been able to find his Social Studies classroom, and had missed a whole 50 minutes of notes. He waited a few minutes, guilt building up in him.

'Thomas?'

'Yeah?'

'Sorry for snapping at you. It was uncalled for,' Alex eyed over at Thomas, and saw him nodding his head slightly, as if acknowledging the apology.

Silence filled the room for a few more minutes.

'Hamilton?'

'Yeah?'

'Catch.'

'Wha-'

Suddenly, a small black box flew across the room, landing perfectly on Alexander's desk.

'That's the lesson.'

' _What_?'

'The lesson, the one you missed. I recorded it.'

Alex raised his eyebrows, staring at the machine cluelessly. They didn't have this sort of thing of Nevis.

'Wait, how does this work?'

Thomas burst in to laughter.

* * *

 Jefferson didn't really hate Hamilton. 

In an odd way, he was quite glad that Hamilton had came to Mount Vernon. He had been an academic scholarship student for a whole year, and he was the only one before Alex. He had been lying to the rest of the students that he had paid his way in to the school, and most of them believed him. He slept in most his classes for the first few months in the school, and most of the other students thought he was cool - cool to the point he quickly ended up being part of the popular crowd.

That was until his final history lessons of his last semester.

'B-' Washington had stated, frowning as he slammed the test down on the desk.

Jefferson shrugged him off. Frankly, he didn't care if Washington was mad at this point. He had already been told he'd be shoved off to France this year.

'Lafayette, Thomas, can I see you after class?' Washington announced, as the bell rang and the students escaped. Sulking, he had headed to Washington's desk. Great. He'd be lectured for his low grade.

'It was an awful grade for you, but that's not what I'm hear to talk about,' Washington laughed, reading his mind. 'There's another scholarship kid next year - an academic scholarship.'

Thomas had questioned this originally. He knew they weren't handed out easily, and that this kid really must be something else entirely.

'He's your roommate, Thomas, and he'll be in most of the same classes as both of you, so treat the poor kid well. He'll be on the same taxi to the school when you get home from France, so you'll meet him early.' Thomas nodded solemnly, leaving Lafayette to assure Washington.

'Of course we will! What do you take us for?' Lafayette blabbered happily, visibily excited.

They were just about to walk out when Washington stopped him.

'Thomas?'

' _What?'_

'You're better than a B-, kid.'


	7. I'm Getting Nervous

Alexander was never one for extra-curricular activities.

He didn't really see the advantages of being involved in them back in Nevis; he had no friends, so there wasn't a social aspect, and his school only offered sports clubs, which he had little interest in.

However, extra-curricular activities gave you extra credits in this school, and Alexander Hamilton was _not_ one to down extra credit.

'What did you do for fun back in Nevis?' John asked Alex as their eyes read rapidly across the piece of paper; Lafayette had somehow managed to acquire the list of the school's clubs two days before it was printed. ('I'm gay and French. No one says no to me.')

All four of them had ended up in Laf and Hercules' room, trying to figure out who was joining what.

'I read a lot?'

'You could join book club,' Hercules suggested, feigning excitement for a second, before adding, 'but, I mean, it's not really fun. Most of the people who join book club are only there to get enough credits to pass their English Literature class.'

'How about robotics?' Lafayette questioned.

'We didn't have much of that kind of stuff on Nevis,' Alexander assured. 'I mean, I'm still struggling to use Thomas' recording thingymajig.'

And he was.

Thomas had sat him down several times and showed him, much to Alex's confusion and Thomas' fury. ('Just click the damn _button_ , Hamilton, it's not rocket science.')

'Well, I mean, there's really no other clubs that you could join,' John sympathised. 'Unless you're in to singing. There's a choir. Lafayette is in it.'

'Uh, no thanks,' Alex laughed. 'I'm not very good at that sort of thing.'

'Did you have to mention the choir?' Hercules moaned at John as Lafayette burst in to a French pop version of Hallelujah.

'Sorry,' John and Alex chorused in response.

Alex couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

 

'Oh, that's probably Alexander, he's my roommate,' he heard Thomas say as Alex waited for the door to open.

He'd been learning off his French notes for the past hour, and hadn't ate anything since breakfast. He wasn't one for eating, not that anyone had noticed, but he truly didn't have the energy to deal with one of Thomas' arrogant frie-

'What's he like?'

That was a new voice.

Alex had heard most of Thomas' friends at this point - Madison, Adams, Franklin - but this one he didn't.

'Okay, I s'ppose. Bit odd. Stays up too late,' Thomas murmured, pushing the door open.

'That means you like him,' the voice teased before stepping in to the room.

The first thing Alexander noticed was that the figure wasn't Thomas' usual sort of friend.

First off, she was female.

Not particularly tall in comparison to Thomas, but loomed over Alexander, her stature brimming with the sort of innate confidence that was rarely achievable. Brown hair fell in to curly locks below her shoulders.

He didn't want to seem too interested in her in case she stared making some remark, and so merely glanced at her before turning back to his notes. Perfect tense verbs were easy, but a pain to wri-

He felt a sharp pang at the back of his head as he turned around to see Thomas holding a book behind his head.

'Geez, man,' the Virginian complained, 'you could at least introduce yourself.'

'Did you _have_ to whack me?' Alexander complained, running the back of his head.

The girl, who was now sitting oddly comfortably on Thomas' bed laughed at the dynamic of the two.

'I'm Angelica Schuyler. You're Alexander...?'

'Hamilton,' Thomas replied for him, peering over his shoulder and looking at his French.

'Why bother making me introduce myself if you were going to do it for me?' Alex huffed, moving his notes away from him. He took a random book from the gigantic stack that had built up on his desk, and turned his chair to face his roommate's spotless side of the room.

'Dunno. Wanted to whack you with the book,' Thomas reasoned, moving away from Alex's desk and sitting beside Angelica.

'Did you hear about Aaron?' Angelica asked her boyfriend.

'What about the asshat? I thought he was going to get all those fancy Princeton tutors to teach him instead of staying here.'

'Nope. Apparently his uncle talked some sense in to him, and he came back for this year.'

'So he's back? Dammit. What a pain,' Thomas sneered. 'I can't wait to destroy him in debate club.'

'Debate club?' Alexander asked, his eyes peering over at the two. 'There's a club for that? Really? I didn't see it on the list.'

'It's more of a small, _private_ group,' Thomas deadpans, earning a laugh from Angelica.

'Oh, come on, Tom. He's your roommate. Let him join.'

'Yeah, but-'

'Hm?'

'I get that, Angie, but-'

'Didn't catch that.'

'I don't-'

'Didn't think you were one to stutter, Jefferson,' she teased relentlessly.

Alex saw his roommate pouting aggressively and lightly nudging his girlfriend.

'Anyway, I have to check on Eliza, or my dad will eat me alive,' Angelica laughed.

She glanced over at Alexander to see confusion written over his face, before explaining, 'It's her first year. She's a ball of nerves.'

He nodded sympathetically, before realising he himself was the exact same. He was probably even more nervous than a first year.

Just before she exited the room, she let out one statement. 'Debate Club is in History 4 on a Tuesday. Don't let Tom stop you.'

Alexander chuckled, before glancing at Thomas' frustrated face.

'Geez, I need a new girlfriend,' Thomas joked.

* * *

 

'Don't be _too_ loud,' Thomas told him, as Alex bit his nails nervously as they stood outside History 4.

'Got it.'

'But don't be too quiet. There's like a nice gray area somewhere,' Thomas insisted, glancing in through the door's window to see if anyone was in yet.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Thomas turned round to glance at Alexander.

'Jesus, Hamilton, you'll have no fingernails by the time you're through with them. Calm down. The worst people you'll have to go against is Burr and I.'

'Was that the guy you and Angelica were talking about?' Alex mumbled quietly, running his hand through his hair anxiously. He wasn't prepared for any of this. Usually when he had an organised debate back in Nevis, he had time to prepare. Notes scribbled down from old books in the library. Since he didn't have any clue what topics would come up, he couldn't prepare properly.

It bothered him to no end.

'Yeah. Aaron Burr. His whole family is involved with Princeton, and he's constantly rattling on about how this school is below his level, and that he needs to be in Princeton already,' Jefferson retorted, rolling his eyes.

'Does he?'

'What? No. No. No way. He's smart, sure, but he still had to pay get in. He's not a scholarship kid.'

'Didn't you pay?' Alex questioned, raising his eyebrows at Thomas.

'Well, yeah,' Thomas backtracked, his face trying to remain calm at his slip up. 'But different circumstances. That sort of thing.'

Alex nodded slowly. He didn't believe him, sure, but he also didn't want to start an argument with him. The two of them seemed to be getting on, despite everything.

'Hey, Thomas,' a voice echoed through the hallway.

' _Here he comes,'_ was the response muttered under Thomas' breath.


	8. Fools Who Run Their Mouths Off Wind Up Dead

'Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?' Alexander asked, staring at the figure who had joined him and Thomas while they waited outside.

'Depends who's asking,' the boy said, raising his eyebrows at the small stature of Alexander Hamilton.

'He's Alexander Hamilton,' Thomas chorused, as Alexander scowled at his roommate. He wanted to introduce himself at some point.

'Pfft. Didn't see you last year,' Aaron commented sharply, his hands in his pockets, relaxed against the wall. He had a strange sort of vibe around him - relaxing, calm, but _private_ , as if he was constantly annoyed at something or someone without ever voicing such opinions.

'I wasn't here,' Alexander confessed. 'I'm a scholarship student.'

'Oh,' was the only response given by Aaron. There was no emotion, no expression; but as Alex turned round to see Thomas grinning, he knew there was something there.

He just couldn't figure it out.

* * *

 

'That's fourteen of you, this year,' Washington couldn't help but smile at the small number of students that filled the rows. As usual, they were all spread out across the classroom. He'd noticed in the past year that he hosted the club that they all had their private issues with each other. Children will be children, he supposed. 

'That's a lot more than last. We barely scraped together six,' Washington announced, earning a small chorused laugh from the students.

'You _didn't_. You had to ask me to join,' Thomas exclaimed, as Washington cast him a glance.

'Moving on, the first debate this year will be whether university or college education should be free. I'll give you a few minutes to gather your opinions and arguments, and then I'll just pick two people randomly to argue for and against,' Washington declared, sitting down at his desk, looking around at the pack of aggressive children, scribbling down notes like the speed of rockets on file paper.

He cast a worried look at his foster son, Thomas, only to see he was trying to sleep instead of preparing.

Sometimes he wondered why he even worked with children at all.

* * *

 

'Burr and Hamilton. Hamilton, you're arguing that it should be free, Burr, that it shouldn't. Short and sweet. A minute or two at most.'

Alexander had never been more anxious in his life. He had got the side he wanted, sure, but Burr probably got the side he wanted too. If what he heard about Burr was correct, he was rich. He was well-off. His family pretty much owned Princeton.

Alex's family had seriously _struggled_ to rent a one-bedroom back in Nevis.

Burr walked with the sort of natural superior air that was inborn, Hamilton cowered nervously; his hands shaking, his mind pacing, his eyes racing around the room as he took his place at the front of the class.

He wasn't ready, he simply wasn't, he couldn't do this, he wanted to go back, back to Nevis, back to his mother _who_ _wasn't_ _there_ -

'University. Not everyone needs it, not everyone wants it. It's a choice that we have to make at some point, whether to continue education, whether to not.'

 _Except_ _some_ _of_ _us_ _don't_ _have_ _a_ _choice._

'If university is state-funded, everyone will have to put proportions of their taxes to funding thousands of students through university, or we'll spiral in to a larger issue. We're already in debt. Do we really need to make that debt bigger? How can we call this fair? By keeping university at a certain cost, we won't have students coming to top colleges and taking degrees that they might not have even wanted to take if it wasn't free. Free university education is a disaster waiting to happen. The quality of education will suffer, the quality of students in such education will suffer...this ridiculous idea needs to end.'

And like that, Alex's nerves were gone.

Anger had replaced anxiety, shaking hands had been replaced with closed fists.

Sure, Burr had financial points, but he had no right to say that the quality of students would suffer. Hell, Alex would bet his life that some of those rich-ass kids being put in to college by their parents were as dumb as bricks.

Calm down. Calm down.

'In today's society,' Alexander started, 'not everyone is born equal. Some of us don't have certain luxuries that others are entitled to since the day they were born, like being born in to a family which might as well _own_ a major university. However, in a world where were becoming increasingly obsessed with such things as social equality, it seems _ridiculous_ that two people born on different sides of the social spectrum should be denied the same basic opportunities. We always hear about how hard it is for families in poverty to send their children to university, and the typical remark is made by the superior social snakes: 'It's their fault they didn't work hard enough.' It's as simple as this - if we aren't given the same educational opportunities as some rich, aristocratic ass, of course we're not going to be able to earn enough money to send our children to university. It's a never ending cycle. When university is free, that's really when we'll reach the social equality we do desperately strive for,' Alexander finished.

It took him a moment to comprehend the complete anger and frustration in his voice, and as he looked down, he mumbled a quick, 'Yeah, so it should be free and all.'

He glanced over at Burr for a second, and although he had struggled to comprehend Burr's face outside the classroom, he could easily read this one.

Irritated.

* * *

 

The rest of the debates swept through without Hamilton even really noticing. He was still worried about what he said, whether it was right, whether it made sense to everyone.

Thomas destroyed Monroe in a matter of seconds, despite Jefferson's complete lack of preparation. The rest of the debates were just people stuttering nervously, trying to cough out a few points they had doodled down on their mostly blank paper.

As soon as it hit 5p.m., Alex couldn't wait to get out. He was speeding to the door quickly, trying to avoid any contact with anyone at all.

_Just get back to the dorm. You can ask Thomas if it was okay later. No need to panic._

'Hey.' Alex turned around to see Burr striding forward to him, a look in his eye that he couldn't quite understand.

'Hi, what's up?' Alexander let out a nervous laugh, as he brought his fingernails to his mouth and started biting them again.

'Your ego, clearly,' was Burr's response. Stone cold, hard, unmerciful. 'You know, for a dwarf-sized immigrant boy, you sure do run your mouth.'

'We were in a debate,' Alexander defended. 'I was just-'

'Well, _don't_. You're probably not even here because you have a brain, you know that? Mommy and Daddy just didn't want you around anymore, and shipped you off here,' Burr sneered. 'They only accepted you as one of their little pity students. They do one of those every year. Just like Thoma-'

Alexander hadn't noticed Jefferson standing behind Burr.

But it sure as _hell_ was impossible to miss the punch that Thomas threw at Burr's nose.

' **Shut up,'** Thomas roared, as Washington rushed over quickly from the desk, dragging the two boys apart.'You don't know anything at all.'

' _Thomas_ ,' Washington commanded, staring down at the boy. 'Leave him.'

'He started it! You heard it! He was saying stuff! Someone had to intervene!' Thomas huffed loudly, taking a few steps back from Burr. ''t's not like you were doing anything about it.'

Washington peered over at Alexander, who was staring at the ground silently as the commotion went on.

'I'm taking Burr to the medical room. Both you and Thomas stay here until I get back.'

* * *

 

The two boys sat in a row quietly, Thomas fiddling with his hand repeatedly.

'It _was_ a good punch,' Alexander chirped up nervously, as Thomas gleered over at him.

'Yeah, suppose it was.'

Silence filled the room for a few odd minutes, both staring silently at the front of the classroom.

'It was a good speech,' Thomas' quiet voice murmured. 'I mean yours. It was good.'

'No, I messed up a ton,' Alex laughed at the odd compliment. 'But I got a good few jabs in at Burr in my speech, even if I couldn't punch him like you could. Thanks for that, by the way.'

Thomas stared down at the ground for a moment, before resting his head in his arms on the table.

'It wasn't just for you.'

* * *

 

Thomas missed his parents.

He did.

So when Aaron Burr was going to make some damn remark about him being a pity student just because his parents 'didn't want him' (this was the conclusion Burr had figured out, and Jefferson had no mind to tell him the actual _truth_ ),of course he was going to swing at him.

His parents had wanted him.

They just left, but the thoughts of them leaving never left.

Every single day, and the feeling never really faded. It was like a constant weight at the back of his mind, slowly dragging him down that he could never release.

He knew it wasn't his fault. How can a car crash be his fault? But death is one of those strange things, and everyone always thinks it's their fault, and Thomas Jefferson was no exception.

He caused it.

He didn't know _how_ , but he _had_.

Not many people knew about what actually happened. Hell, he couldn't even tell Angelica. He tried to tell her once, but he didn't want her to worry about him either. Angelica had her own issues. She didn't need to deal with his.

Despite all his attempts to keep it a secret, now here he was, in a classroom with his 'friend' of the sort, about to be told off by Washington before getting the infamous ' _I_ know _it's very hard Thomas but you'll get through this'_ talk.

He'd had a year - which felt like a hundred - and he wasn't making any progress.

He wasn't sure he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am planning to do a Halloween chapter with John, Alex (there'll be some Lams, I know it's slow but it's coming) Lafayette and Hercules trick or treating, but I just want to finish this part of the story off first.  
> Also, I know Burr isn't very realistic, but I want to make him a bit of a jerk. He'll get slightly better.   
> I know it's very Thomas and Alexander centered right now, but I will move on quite heavily to John soon, and I just want to have this relationship built and stable.


	9. I Grew Up Buckwild

'Really?' George hissed at the Virginian boy in front of him.

He wasn't even listening.

His head was in his hands, as if he was trying to ignore the situation.

'You were only with Burr for an hour, and you already threw a punch at him? You don't usually get in these sort of fights, Thomas-'

'I get it, I get it,' Thomas mumbled in response. 'Sorry. Don't worry about it.'

The boy rose to his feet, and dragged them heavily to the door as if they were weights, desperate to avoid anymore of the lecture. Alex sat quietly in his chair, waiting to be dismissed patiently, unlike Thomas, who slammed the door on his way out. He didn't want to get off on the wrong foot with Mr. Washington, especially since John explained that he was the one that probably got him his scholarship in the first place.

He didn't want to be sent home. He was still scared of planes, first off, and he was getting used to this school.

'Geez, that boy's a handful,' George chuckled, turning his attention towards Alexander. 'I don't know how my wife can handle him.'

'Your wife, sir?' Alexander was confused how Thomas would be in anyway connected to a history teacher's wife. He hadn't heard much about Thomas' family situation, and he tried to avoid prying; if he pried at Thomas, maybe Thomas would pry at him too.

George seemed to comprehend Hamilton's lack of knowledge, and shrugged it off.

'It doesn't matter much, son, ask Thomas. You're free to go.'

Alexander nodded, grabbing his books and the books his roommate left behind and headed for the door.

'It was a good debate, Alexander.'

He couldn't help but grin with pride at the comment.

* * *

 

Thomas wasn't in the room when Alexander returned.

Alex figured he'd probably went out with Angelica, or Madison, or one of his other friends. That was where he usually was when he wasn't here outside of school hours.

He was fine. He was fine. He was fine.

Alex had no need to worry. He dropped the pile of books that Thomas left behind on Thomas' desk, and he caught a glance of a photo hidden behind the desktop computer.

It was Thomas and two people, who Alexander guessed were his parents. Thomas was small, no older than 5 or 6, grinning with a smile that barely had any teeth in it. The mother was kneeling down beside her son, the father ruffling his hair.

They looked genuinely happy.

Alexander was rarely jealous about parents - his mother had been _wonderful._ He had no need to be jealous. His mother had provided for both him and his brother. She tried hard to make sure he was learning enough at school, she'd scavenge for any books possible.

His dad on the other hand...he couldn't help but be slightly envious at Thomas' dad. His dad had left his mother, abandoned his brother and hi-

He needed to distract himself from this. Or, at the very least, talk to someone about it.

* * *

 

'Hey,' Alex greeted nervously as James Madison opened the door, his face bored, his eyebrows raised.

'What do you want?' Madison snapped in fury, blocking the door.

Madison and Hamilton had fortunately managed to avoid much verbal contact with each other, and both gave the impression to the other that they wanted to keep it that way.

'I-Is John there?' Alexander stuttered out anxiously, his hands running through his hair.

'No.'

'Yes,' a voice called from inside the room, as John appeared behind James, blushing slightly.' Can you move, James?' John asked politely, trying to get past him.

'Why should I bother?' James deadpanned, his arm blocking the door way.

'I'll be out of the room,' John assured hopefully.

Within seconds, John was pushed out, the door was slammed and a grumble of 'thank god' was heard from the other side.

* * *

 

'Thanks for coming,' John chuckled, scratching his arm, avoiding eye contact with Alexander altogether. They sat quietly on the crisp grass that flooded the school gardens, trying to enjoy the rare peace and quiet they got.

'I always ended up third-wheeling with Herc and Laf last year, so it's nice to have you. Not literally have you, but, you know, have you here, because last year-' John panicked nervously, staring at the grass.

Alexander laughed, smiling, 'I get it. I always feel like I'm third-wheeling for Thomas and Angelica. It's not that fun.'

'Did you have many friends back in Nevis?'

'Not really, no. Well, not really like you, Herc and Laf. Most of the kids back at home skipped school a lot, or spent most of their time trying to steal alcohol from the trading ships that came in,' Alex admitted.

'Did you have a- uh, a girlfriend?' John mumbled, looking over at Alex sheepishly.

'N-no. I wasn't really in to that sort of stuff.'

'Oh. So, you had a boyfriend?' John questioned, still talking in a hushed voice.

'There weren't really many guys I liked.'

'Yeah, I understand that,' John nodded, laughing.

'Did you have one? A boyfriend, I mean?' 

'Never had the chance. My dad wasn't really a fan of uh, gays or bi's,' John explained, shifting in his spot nervously. 'So I never really tried to have a boyfriend or anything. I didn't want to get in trouble, so I never really told anyone about it. But I came to this school, and Lafayette and Hercules were in a relationship within a few weeks, and they just...accepted it when I told them. What about your dad?'

Alexander decided it was about time he told someone.

He couldn't avoid the situation forever.

At some point, they'd find out, it was best to do it now.

'He left, when I was pretty young. I got a letter a few years ago saying he passed away. So, he really can't be around anymore,' Alexander confessed.

'Sorry.' 

'It's okay. I'm sorry about your dad, too.'

The two boys remained silent, sitting closely together.

'So, what about Madison as a boyfriend?' Alexander teased, trying to remain serious.

John glanced at him, horror filling in his eyes.

They both burst in to laughter.


	10. Have I Done Something Wrong, Sir?

'Have you seen Thomas?' Angelica demanded, barging in to the room before Alexander could even open the door to let her in.

'I thought he was with you,' Alex stated, his mind too engrossed in his book to even comprehend the situation fully.

Thomas was fine. He was probably just out with some other friends.

He made the mistake of looking up at the woman standing in front of him, only to be met with a deadly glare, and closed the book quietly as a shiver shot through his spine.

'I thought he was with _you_ ,' she insisted. 'He went to debate club with you, right?'

'Well, he did, yeah, but-'

'But _what_?'

'He got in to a fight and left. I thought he was with James Madison, but Madison was there when I went to talk to John Laurens, so I guessed he was with you,' was Alexander's sheepish reply.

Angelica's face softened slightly, as she her hand ran through her hair slowly. 'Did he mention that he needed to go anywhere?'

Angelica pursued, checking Thomas' desk, her eyes running over it like dogs chasing a wild rabbit. Alex had already looked over the desk - most of it was schoolbooks, strange technological wonders that Alex couldn't fathom, or photos; lots of old photos.

They were hidden, mostly, in drawers, or behind other objects, but not completely invisible, as if Thomas secretly intended for people to see them.

'No.'

' _Nothing_?'

'I swear. I would have noticed. I'm _not_ stupid,' Alexander Hamilton assured, trying to ignore the sinking feel that kept emerging in his stomach.

He stared at the door blankly as his roommate's girlfriend walked out murmuring something that Alexander could no longer hear, forcing him to think about something that he didn't want to think about.

* * *

 

' _Dad?'_

_Alex had asked as his father had stood at the door with bags surrounding him. His dad didn't pay him attention, grabbing whatever he could nearby the door._

_Not that they had much. Just some old, tattered coats that were either too high or far, far too small._

_'Dad,' Alex asked, pulling at his father's jacket. 'Are you going out?'_

_A grumble of some sort was barely audible, and his father shut the door without even looking at his son._

_Alexander Hamilton didn't think was odd at the time; his father gave him the cold shoulder often enough._

_His father just returned the previous times._

* * *

 

_'Don't go,' Alex cried desperately, tears flowing down his face. 'Please don't go. I'll be really good.'_

_'You're already really good, Alex,' his mother had choked out, smiling softly at her youngest son._

_His sick mother._

_The mother he couldn't save, the mother he didn't know how to save._

_He knew most things._

_He knew quantum physics, he knew complicated math, large portions of French...and yet he didn't know this one, one important thing._

_He didn't how to help her._

_He could have done more, and he didn't know how._

_He deserved to not have her._

* * *

 

 _Of course_ Thomas had left.

Of course. Anyone who had been in close proximity with him ended up dead soon after.

His brother, maybe the only exception, was either drunk or stoned when he was around Alex, so James rarely had any sort of proper conversation with him.

This was all his fault.

Everything, _everything_ was his fault.

He sat suspiciously silently at his desk, his eyelids drooping like bricks, before slooping to his bed.

He needed sleep.

He wanted sleep.

He rarely slept.

* * *

 

The door creaked open sometime in the early morning.

'Thomas?' Alexander mumbled in to the dark, pulling his tired body to sit up. ''s 'at you?' 

There was an odd silence, and a soft quiet shifting around the room. Alexander panicked quietly inside - was someone else in his room? Had he made enemies that quickly?

Aaron Burr.

Aaron Burr had come to kill him.

Alexander deserved it.

He shouldn't have said anything at the debate. He just needed to accept his death graciously.

'Yeah,' a voice responded, as he heard them move in to the bed. He glanced over, and faintly made out Thomas' figure.

It could still be Aaron Burr in disguise.

Maybe he was a master of disguise, and Alexander simply didn't know.

'Are you sure that's you?'

' _Yes, you #@£_ &?! idiot,'_ was the snappy reply from the other side of the room.

It was definitely Thomas.

'Angelica was worried about you.'

'Yeah, I bet she was.'

There was silence for a few minutes, both knowing that the other was completely awake.

'I was worried too.'

 

 

'Sorry.'

* * *

 

The next morning's classes were the slowest Alexander had ever been in. Alexander had usually flown ahead in his classes, and found great pleasure in them, but something weighed on his mind that he couldn't put his finger on.

'Are you okay, _mon ami_?' Lafayette had asked as they headed towards Algebra. Lafayette was in one class, Alexander the other.

'You look off.'

'I'm fine. I had a bad night,' Alex laughed at the French boy.

'I heard you met up with John. Bet you and him sure had a _rough_ night,' Laf responded, a cheeky smile growing on his lips, his eyes still on his friend to see if he understood.

'We went back to our dorms at 6p.m.,' was Alex's confused reply as Lafayette rolled his eyes.

How could a person be so smart and yet so stupid?

'So you and John,' Laf continued. 'You two seem friendly.'

'Well, yeah. We're friends,' Alex replied, his eyes raised. 'You two seem friendly too. I don't see what's strange about it.'

'Have you had an eye test before, _mon ami_?'

'No. I never had a problem with my sight, so-'

'You might need one. You're as a blind as a bat, _mon ami_ ,' Lafayette laughed, before charging towards his class, only turning around to pull a ridiculous face at Alexander.

'Wha...?'

* * *

 

Alexander was walking out of his history class when Washington stopped him.

'Have I done something wrong, sir?' Alex suggested, panicking inside quietly.

'No, no,' the man chuckled, laughing at the small boy's worry.

'I just wanted to know how Thomas was.'

' _Oh_.'

Washington looked down at him, trying to mask the panic on his face.

Martha would eat him alive if Thomas wasn't well. He was her favourite, though she'd never admit it. ('You know I love Lafayette and Thomas equally, George, don't start this.)

'Was that a good 'oh' or...?'

'I didn't see much of him. He came in late last night, and he was gone before I got up in the morning. Sorry, sir,' Hamilton muttered, his feet shuffling.

George nodded, thinking what on earth Thomas could have been out doing until early morning.

Drugs?

Alcohol?

Martha was going to rip George's throat out.

She would rip out Thomas', though, too.

'Hmmm. And how's Lafayette?' George smiled softly, his face working constantly to hide his constant anxiety.

'He's...Lafayette. I didn't think you had any classes with him, sir' Alex assured, raising his eyebrows, but trying to keep his polite tone.

'He's a foster son of mine while he's in Virginia,' George responded.

He knew Lafayette wouldn't mind Alexander knowing his family situation; Thomas...was a different story. Alexander just stood there, completely stunned, as George sniggered at his confused face.

'H-he hadn't mentioned it,' Alexander stated in disbelief.

'He usually has other more important things to do, like slacking off on in all his classes... If you don't mind, I hope you keep both of my son's working hard. They slack off a lot,' George complained, glancing down at the small Carribean boy. 'Anyway, keep me updated on Thomas, if you would,' George finished, walking back in to his classroom as silent as a mouse despite his large stature.

_Both his sons?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually sort of want to do a small flash back of Thomas and Lafayette's time at the Washington's, but ehhh still playing with the idea.  
> There will be a Halloween one, but the thing is, with my update schedule of once every few days, I feel like if I do one now it would be a bit early. And I'm also not sure if I want them at Mount Vernon or school for Halloween, it's...yeah. It's there.  
> Honestly, the story has little direction. I'm still figuring stuff out.  
> Sorry.


	11. You Should Have Told Me

Thomas Jefferson was a fantastic liar.

So, when Alexander Hamilton rushed in to the room, spewing on recklessly about children, Washington, history and Thomas' foster brother, Lafayette (although Alex wasn't aware of the foster brother situation, thank god), Thomas was well prepared.

He prided himself on thinking on his feet, on being quick-witted; lying was in no way an exception.

'Did you know Mr. Washington had sons?'

'Lots of people have children,' Thomas stated dryly, not even glancing up from his brightly lit computer screen as his roommate entered the room.

'Yeah, but one of them is _Lafayette_ ,' Alexander grinned, trying to contain his excitement at this new information. 'Do you think the other one is here, too? Do you know him?'

'Why would I?' Thomas responded blankly, his mind still concentrating on the article he was reading about the different ways to prepare haddock.

'I don't know. You know everybody,' Alexander mumbled. 'Don't you think this is interesting?'

'Why do _you_ think it's interesting? I didn't think you were a fan on the social scene,' Thomas sniggered, his eyebrows raising slightly, his mind still heavily concentrated on the article.

' _I'm not_ ,' Hamilton defended. 'Anyway, forget it, I'll just ask Lafayette if you don't know him.' 

'Wait,' Thomas stuttered, instantly searching his mind for a name. Lafayette would spill the beans about him within seconds (he wouldn't mean to, of course, but his foster brother commonly over-shared about every possible topic of conversation), and he didn't want Alexander knowing.

'I think his name is, uh, John Jay? Ask around,' Thomas suggested quietly as Alexander nodded, speeding out of the room at a frightening pace, mumbling an incoherent thank you.

* * *

 

'Hey, Lafaye-' Thomas started, knocking the French boy's door cautiously.

Within seconds, the Virginian boy was pulled in to the room, watching Lafayette grin senselessly.

' _Mon frère!'_ Lafayette smiled triumphantly. 'I win!' Thomas stared in confusion at 'his brother.'

'Win what?'

'Dad and I made a bet, and he said that you wouldn't come to my room all year, but I said you would, so now I get $20,' Lafayette exclaimed ecstatically.

It took Thomas a minute to process who 'Dad' was. Lafayette had always been overly friendly with Washington - unlike Thomas, who tried to keep a safe distance.

'Well, that's wonderful, but-'

'Guess what, Herc? Remember the bet? I won,' Lafayette shouted, knocking on the door of the bathroom with innocent joy.

'Lafayette, I need to talk-' Thomas pleaded, grabbing his brother's arm to try and prevent him from running down the corridor and announcing it to the whole school.

'Do you know _John_ likes _Alexander_?' Lafayette splurted out, his smile remaining on his face like permanent marker on a wall.

Honestly. Lafayette was about as good at keeping secrets as a drunk 17 year old girl would be.

'No, bu-'

'Aren't you glad? Now, he won't have to third wheel with you and Angelica all the time.'

'I suppose, so, _sure_ , but Lafayette, I'm being serious-'

'How is Angelica, _mon frère_? She's a wonderful sister-in-law,' Lafayette smirked, shaking free of the irritated Virginian boy's grip and collapsing on to his own bed. 

'Angelica and I are not married,' Thomas remarked, looming over Lafayette, 'and you and I aren't _brothers_.'

'Geez, sure, _trou de cul,'_ the French boy huffed, crossing his arms on his bed.

'Anyway, I only came here to say that I don't want you to go around sharing to people that we're-'

'Brothers?' Lafayette teased, looking up at the frustrated Virginian.

'I suppose. It's bad enough that Mulligan already knows,' Thomas complained as Hercules entered the room.

' _Mon frère_ , I can't keep secrets from my boyfriend,' Lafayette shrugged, smiling at Hercules. 'I mean, he's _hot_. Look at him.'

Thomas glanced up and down at Hercules, his face scrunching, his eyes scrutinizing. 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose.'

'...Thank you?' Hercules responsed, confused at whether or not Jefferson had complimented of insulted him.

'You're welcome,' Thomas smirked, his eyes turning once again to his foster brother. 'What did I tell you?'

'Don't go sharing about our wonderful brotherly relationship. I understood, Tommy,' Laf smiled confidently, standing up and shooing him out.

'My name is Thomas, not-'

'Out you go, Hercules and I have some business to attend to,' said the French lad, pushing him out the door way. 'Important business. Business you don't want your poor, innocent eyes to see, _mon frère_.'

* * *

As Thomas walked down the corridor, his eyes met the one person he wanted to see - and at the same time didn't.

'Where the @#-?! were you?' Angelica demanded, striding down the corridor with such conviction that Thomas wanted to run the other way.

'O-out,' Thomas stuttered. 'I-I was doing something last night.'

'You couldn't have told me?' she snapped, but in a tone that suggested she wasn't truly infuriated at him. Thomas shook his head vigorously, afraid to speak.

'You should have told me,' she continued. 'I had to visit your roommate, Alex, and I was in such a bad temper I probably scared the poor boy to death.'

Thomas thought that _anything_ would scare Alexander Hamilton to death, but was too scared himself to point this out to his girlfriend.

'You worry me senseless,' she frowned, her voice quivering.

'I'm sorry,' Thomas mumbled genuinely. Angelica Schuyler was rarely worried, and her voice was usually as strong as a thousand rampaging bulls...it was in situations like this that Thomas understood he truly had done something wrong. 'But, hey, I'm free tonight! We could watch a movie or-' he suggested hopefully, a small smile curling on his lips.

Within seconds, he was embraced in a hug.

Thomas wasn't one for hugs.

He wasn't one for much physical contact at all, and Angelica knew this.

Yet, he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend without a single word of complaint. 

'That's a deal,' Angelica insisted. 'I'm holding you to that. But...'

'Hm?'

'If you were worried about something, you'd tell me right?'

Thomas gulped nervously, trying to hide it as best as possible.

'Of course.'

* * *

 

'I can leave,' Alexander told Thomas and Angelica as Thomas set up the small TV, a scatter of swear words surrounding the trio. Angelica was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, while Alexander remained safely to the side, praying for an escape route. He'd been looking for John Jay all day, and he hadn't seen a single sight of him. He wanted to at least get some information on him before going to sleep. 

' _Please_ do,' Thomas hissed jokingly, playing with the cables (or, rather, trying desperately to figure them out with no one noticing that he couldn't).

Alexander hadn't even been aware there was a TV - it had been shoved in to the bottom of Thomas' wardrobe ('It's a waste of space. I rarely use it, and it's a pain to work.').

Yet Thomas had dragged it out this evening to watch a movie with Angelica, and Alexander remained adamant not to gate crash.

'Stay,' Angelica barked, as if ordering a dog. 'I need to make it up to you for yelling like a maniac yesterday.'

A groan was heard from Thomas, followed by a sigh of relief as the small box buzzed to life.

' _There_ ,' he presented the TV proudly as Alexander clapped politely. 'I told you I could do it.'

'Took you long enough,' Angelica mocked as Thomas threw a soft punch at her.

'What are we watching?' Thomas inquired, staring at the small pile of DVDs in a tattered box, as Angelica rushed eagerly to answer him.

'The Lion King.'

' _No_ ,' Thomas moaned.

'Why not?'

'Angelica, we've watched it a million times.'

'And it gets better each time.'

'Angie, at this point I could perform the whole movie for you word for word.'

'I'd happily watch that,' Angelica challenged, grinning as Thomas went pale. 'The Lion King. Now.'

Thomas reluctantly obeyed as Alexander tried to sneak out of the room unsuspected.

He didn't want to third wheel.

He didn't even know what The Lion King was.

It could be some weird romance movie, or a jaw-dropping horror, and both he wanted to avoid at all costs.

But last and not least, he was desperate to find _something_ about John Jay.

'Alexander, don't even try,' Angelica ridiculed the escaping boy, reaching for his foot and dragging him back in. 'Do you not like The Lion King?'

'Never watched it,' Hamilton grumbled.

This remark earned an audible gasp from Jefferson, and a stare of confusion and worry from the eldest Schuyler sister, followed by a chorus of laughter echoing around the dorm room.

'You had one _awful_ childhood,' Angelica commented, as Alexander considered that she probably didn't know exactly how bad it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mon frère = My brother.  
> Trou de cul = Assh**e.


	12. You Should Have Told Me (2)

John Jay was the most sour faced boy Alexander Hamilton had ever seen.

He wasn't particularly tall - not particularly short, either - and his facial features were so sharp that you could cut your hand on them. His shoulders sloped, his arms fell lifelessly at his sides, looking astoundingly like a paranoid zombie just coming down from some sort of high.

The Politics lecture they both were in had been dragging on for over an hour, and Alex had just settled for staring at Washington's foster son, confused at how on Earth he could in anyway be liked by Mr. Washington or Lafayette.

The more he stared, the more his eyes begged to close. Angelica had kept him up all night watching Disney movies, which, while Alexander would admit were impressive, had lost him the few rare hours of sleep he had begun to heavily rely on.

And then there was John Jay.

There was only one word, _one word,_ Alexander concluded, that could describe John Jay.

 **Boring**.

He had no charisma, no personality, and sat at the front of the class looking at the teacher as if he had some long term stroke and needed emergency help.

The more he looked at this boy, the more Hamilton felt _he_ was the one that needed emergency help.

* * *

 

'Hi,' Alexander squeaked out to the mind-blowingly dull young man that stood silently in front of him, the boy's feet shuffling sporadically. The lecture had finished - much to Hamilton's relief - and he had been able to catch John before he dawdled out of the classroom.

'Hello,' John Jay deadpanned, looking Alex straight in the eye, no emotion being shown on his face whatsoever, like a robot with a blank screen as a face; showing not even slight confusion about being pulled over by the strange, small, slip of a boy that Alexander was.

'I, uh,' Alexander started, before pausing.For once in his life, he couldn't find the right words to say. He knew exactly he wanted to say, his brain knew the general idea of the speech, but he -

_He couldn't._

I mean, _how_ do you word it?

_I just wanted to ask you about you relationship with Mr. Washington?_

_Are you Mr. Washington's son?_

_I'm friends with your gay, French brother?_

'What?' John questioned, his eyebrows twitching ever so slightly.

'I, uh, heard that you were Mr. Washington's foster son, and-'

'I'm not.'

The defiant response echoed through the room which such unpredicted authority that even Alexander was shocked.

'Who told you that?'

Alex had never been informed exactly how friendships were supposed to work, and the few books he had read on the subject were less than helpful, especially considering he wasn't confident that he could call Thomas Jefferson a _friend_ ; yet, for some innate reason he felt that he probably shouldn't reveal Thomas told him.

'A friend,' was Alexander's stuttered response, avoiding the gaze that John Jay was throwing his way.

'Well,' John snapped, his demeanor notably different, 'tell your ' _friend_ ' they got the wrong person.'

As John glided away, Alexander stood like a statue, his mind slowing down to a speed that he didn't exactly like.

* * *

 

'Yes. No. I don't know. I met him. Once. Maybe twice,' Lafayette lied through his teeth, his face scrunched up with nerves, his nose flaring up.

'You genuinely don't know who your foster brother is?' Alexander questioned, as John dealt the Monopoly 'money' to the three boys sitting on the floor with him.

Alexander paused, looking at the coloured pieces of paper with confusion, before shrugging it off. He'd ask how to play 'Monopoly' after he got his answer.

'Not at all. Maybe never. Maybe he's just a figment of my imagination,' Lafayette tried desperately, mentally feeling his boyfriend's facepalm from this statement.

'No, Mr. Washington said-' Alexander started, looking desperately at John and Hercules to see if they seemed to know anything (they didn't - they were arguing about the strange slips of money they had received from the game).

'Maybe you're imagining him, too. What if you're imagining all of us?'

' _But_ -'

'Do you know John fancies you?' Lafayette spilled, hoping to drag all possible attention away from him.

An eerie silence filled the room as Hercules Mulligan and John Laurens stopped arguing.

The wind whistled on the window as rain pattered with a consistent pattern outside the building.

The slips of paper and the game left untouched, the boys sitting like dogs on the floor, their hands still, their mouths wide open.

From what Alexander had learnt of John Laurens, he was not the type of person to be prone to violence. Of the three boys, he was the sanest, the sensible one, a pretty head on good shoulders.

So when John jumped from his position like a squirrel avoiding an approaching automobile, Alexander was not prepared.

'You can keep your mouth shut about Thomas being your brother, but not about me fancying Alexander?' Laurens roared, tackling the French child, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, his fist raised threateningly. Lafayette squirmed desperately, trying to get out of his infuriated friend's grip, not saying a single word. Hercules sat in the exact same position, starting to deal the money just as he had before, ignoring the situation.

'Wait - Thomas _who_?' Alexander interrupted, reaching for John and trying to pull him off Lafayette.

'Thomas Greene?' Lafayette suggested, thinking of the first surname he could come up with.

John Laurens was having absolutely none of this.

'Thomas Jefferson, that's who,' John commented, finally pulling away from Lafayette as the French boy tried to straighten his collar.

'You're kidding,' Alexander stated in disbelief at the three boys. 'Thomas Jefferson. My roommate, Thomas?'

'Why do you think Mr. Washington pays so much attention to Thomas? Of course he is. Not that he would admit it. Too proud,' John commented, still annoyed at his crush being revealed.

Alexander got on his feet, rushing out of Lafayette's room full speed, muttering something under his breath that absolutely no one could catch or understand but Alexander.

However, just as he was just about to race out the door, Alex turned quickly to the boys in the room, who had resumed their original positions on the floor, the Monopoly board still in the middle, despite everyone knowing that Monopoly would not be played at all.

'Sorry, I have to go. But, um,' a blush creeped up on Alexander's face, 'me too. About the other thing.'

Hamilton dashed out of the room after this. The wind stopped whistling for a mere second, and it was as if the rain had never existed at all.

'See, I was _helpful,'_ Lafayette teased, looking over at John hopefully, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

'... I'm sorry about the brother thing,' John admitted quietly. 'Let's call it quits.'

'Deal!' was the French boy's excited response, before raising his eyebrow suggestively at his friend. 'So. You and Alexander.'

' _Shut up.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I haven't updated as often as I usually do - I had a few tests in school and one was a math test, and...let's say I'm not very good at that subject and had to revise a lot. 
> 
> Anyway! This will be wrapped up in the next chapter, and then the Halloween stuff will start.


	13. Helpless

Thomas Jefferson was typically the type of turbulent person that simply could not care less about what was going on in his own life, nevermind the lives of anyone at all around him.

Yet, as the sun beamed through the window with a near heavenly glow, he was on edge, as if he was on a suspended cliff that was seconds from collapsing beneath its poor structure.

He wasn't doing anything in particular; he was sitting slumped on his bed, looking down, doing his best to try and numb everything his bones _begged_ him to feel.

Mourning the people he had already mourned.

Ignoring the feelings that maybe someone more stable would not ignore.

Why had he been perfectly okay with keeping this secret last year?

Last year was supposed to be the hardest year, last year was the hard one, not, not this one, he shouldn't be feeling like this, loss is a temporary state of mind that should fade away.

It _wasn't_ fading.

_Why wasn't it fading?_

At least most people didn't know. At least he had that privilege, nevermind how miniscule.

For how long, forever?

The door swung open, banging against the other side of the wall, startling Thomas slightly, a silent shiver running up his spine as who he could only presume was Alexander entering the room.

He was soon to learn that he didn't have that privilege for long at all.

* * *

 

Alexander Hamilton did not know the basic social cues of human interaction.

He hadn't had friends at all back on Nevis, so there was very little need for such knowledge. He could ignore it without bother. It didn't concern him, nor was it necessary.

The only thing that really concerned him back on Nevis was _himself_ , what _he_ needed to know, _his_ constant struggle to keep surviving.

Of course he felt bad when those he loved 'left' him - his mother's death shook him to the core - but his focus was always to keep himself going. To eventually escape. To make a change.

So, when Alexander Hamilton walked in to the room, he was **furious**. This was one of the first people he was growing to consider a friend.

He trusted him.

He thought he truly was a good person.

Despite all this, there was Thomas, sitting on his bed, _feeling sorry for himself?_

Thomas had no right to feel like he was the one let down.

Everyone, _everyone_ let Alexander down, and you didn't see him sitting sulking about it. He stood still, his rage glueing him to the spot, his mind ready to pounce on Thomas like a lion on its prey.

Thomas didn't look up.

Thomas just sat there.

Helpless.

Maybe if Alexander understood a bit more, understood social cues, understood that you shouldn't really yell at someone in Thomas' state of mind, the fight wouldn't have broke out.

* * *

 

'Why didn't you tell me?' Alexander hissed, moving towards Thomas' bed as his victim didn't move an inch. 

Tell what?' Thomas murmured, forcing the words out of his mouth, already knowing the answer before he asked the question.

'About _you_ being Mr. Washington's son! Do you know how embarrassing it was to ask John Jay? You sent me on a wild goose chase!' the Carribbean boy howled. 'Are you trying to make fun of me? Was this what you planned to do all along?'

Silence.

'If you didn't want to be friends with me, you didn't have to _act_ so nice to me! Do you even consider me a friend?'

Silence.

'Well?'

'Can you just shut up?' Thomas bellowed at his roommate, suddenly jerking from his position, standing tall and glaring down at Alex. 'This is all _your_ fault. All of this is your fault. If you hadn't come, no one would have cared who I was! You're such a pain in the ass! I have to look after you just because you're an orphan? So am I! Man up! That's not how this works, okay?!'

'How's it my fault?! You were a jerk the moment you met me!'

'Yeah?! Well, how would you feel if your ''parents'' didn't want you all summer and fished you off to France? They pretend they care, but they don't give a s**t! Washington just thinks I'm a liability, it's written over his face every time he looks at me! And _Martha_ , Martha just pities me! Every time she sees me, it's just pity. I don't want her pity! I _don't want anyone's pity_!' Thomas cried dramatically, pushing Alexander over as the small boy fell backwards on the floor.

Alexander's small body filled with rage at the Virginian lad's action, and within seconds, Alex sprung to his feet and planted a vicious punch on Thomas' face, tackling him to the ground as the two boys brawled like pack animals over a good piece of meat.

'S-stop feeling sor-rry for yourself!' Alexander forced out as Thomas grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. 'You're the one who lied to me!'

'You shouldn't go around poking in other people's business! Didn't anyone teach you that?'

'I didn't have anyone to teach me that, a**hole!' Alexander insisted, freeing himself of Thomas' grip. 'You're not the only one who loses people! Get over it!'

' _You don't think I'm trying_?!' Thomas' voice quivered slightly at this statement, his true mental state slowly surfacing. 'I'm doing my best! _Shut up_! You all just need to shut up for once!' Thomas hand motioned to swing at Alexander's face, impact approaching fast -

' ** _Thomas.'_**

Thomas paused, his fist freezing up on him as the voice spoke his name.

He knew exactly who it was, and pushed Alexander away from him as fast as humanly possible.

'Mo- Martha,' he spoke up, in a state of shock.

Alexander, who was lying a metre or two away from the Virginian boy, turned his head to see the woman standing in the doorway. She looked oddly familiar, a familiar he couldn't quite understand until he saw the look she was sending Thomas.

It reminded him of-

It suddenly dawned on him that this was not just Mr. Washington's wife, but also the woman he had met on the plane to Virginia, and Alex tried his best to shuffle away from Thomas, who was still in a state of pure and utter shock.

Both boys gaped at the women in disbelief as she looked over them with a sense of pity, disappointment and mild confusion.

'You have a lot of explaining to do. Both of you.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....I know it's poorly written but...  
>  And I just wanted to say, thank you all so much for your comments! I know I don't reply to them, but that's because I'm not very good at accepting nice things, but I read them all and they make me smile every time I read them. Don't think I don't read them, I do!


	14. There Are Moments That The Words Don't Reach

The first natural thing Thomas Jefferson did was try to make a run for the doorway.

He had seen Martha angry before, and he never, _ever_ wanted to see that again.

( ~~Last Thanksgiving, George Washington and Thomas had gotten in to an argument before dinner, and she didn't give them any food until they both apologized.)~~

When Martha was angry, it was like a rampaging bull had been let loose on a pack of innocent children; there was no way in hell Thomas was staying for that.

Scrambling to his shaking feet, he rushed to the doorway as if he was running from a ravenous lion.

Martha was having _none_ of this.

Her arms quickly blocked the rest of the space available in the doorway she was standing in, frowning at Thomas' poorly planned escape.

'Were you fighting?' Martha hissed, her voice filled with anger and slight hints of disappointment.

'N-no, Martha,' Thomas squeaked out, stepping back. 'We were, uh,' he looked desperately at his roommate for some help, nerves getting the better of him.

'Practising,' Alex confirmed, trying to make his voice sound as confident as humanly possible, but instead came out as weak and nervous as a newly born lamb.

'For _what_?' Martha deadpanned, glancing at the two boys.

'Boxing. We took up boxing. Right, Thomas?' Alex continued, the lie building.

'Mmm,' Thomas forced out, not even being able to articulate words.

'Dear, have you ever seen boxing?' Martha asked the small Caribbean boy, a hint of humor in her voice.

Alexander couldn't help but flinch at 'dear'. He hadn't been called that in years. Not since his mother. Yet, he supposed it wasn't really the time for sentimentality.

'No, miss, I joined boxing club to learn,' he tried, but even his own mouth knew how poor this lie was.

'Well, you usually stand in boxing when fighting.'

'I mean, we started standing. But then we thought we'd try, um, horizontal boxing, to help us understand it better.'

Hamilton had never told a lie this awful to anyone, and the moment it came out of his mouth he regretted it.

Luckily for him, the woman's attention turned away from him and back to Jefferson.

'Would you like to tell me why you were fighting?'

'It-' Thomas' response was interrupted by the sounds of rapid feet rushing down the hallway.

* * *

 

Martha glanced away from the room to see three familiar faces approaching her.

Hercules was the first one to reach the doorway that was still blocked by Martha, although the moment he reached it, he slumped down against the wall in the corridor.

'Hey, Martha!' he tried to grin, but couldn't help but pant instead.

'Good to see you, Hercules. How's-'

' ** _MOM_**!'

'Lafayette,' Martha finished as the French boy sped up the corridor, stopping at the doorway. He peered in to the room to see Alexander on the ground and Thomas cowering beside the tall woman.

'Mom, I swear I didn't do _anything_ ,' Lafayette swore innocently, looking at his mother. 'It's all John's fault. Blame John. If he didn't have a crush on Alexander-'

'CAN WE STOP BROADCASTING THAT?' Laurens cried as he paced up the corridor, falling behind the rest of the boys as Martha smiled sympathetically at the him. 'I'm so sorry, Mrs. Washington-'

'John, dear, I told you to call me Martha,' she scolded gently, sniggering at the panicked state of John.

'Right, well, you see, Mrs Washi - _Martha_ , I mean, Martha, the thing is I accidentally told Alexander something I wasn't supposed to tell him about Thomas-' John blabbered, as Thomas cast a glare at him.

'It was _you_ that told Alexander?' Thomas shouted from inside the room, his voice filled with rage. 'I thought it was Lafayette!'

'See? All John's fault,' Laf commented dismissively.

'Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, is that how you treat your friend?' Martha reprimanded, hitting the French boy lightly over the head. '

Why is it my fault now? I didn't do anything,' Lafayette lied innocently as Herc laughed in the background.

'Everyone get in,' Martha frowned, moving from the doorway to let the trio outside in. 'You're all going to explain what happened. And Thomas Jefferson-Washington, don't you even _think_ about running away.'

* * *

 

'And that's it,' John finished, sighing. 'I'm very sorry for all the trouble, Mrs Washington.'

She wanted to rebuke the boy for not calling her Martha again, but decided to let it slide.

'It's okay, dear. It wasn't your fault. It was just a slip of the tongue,' she comforted the boy.

He was sitting on Alexander's bed, alongside Alex, Lafayette and Hercules, who were all looking down in shame. They were good kids, really. They didn't mean any harm.

'If you wouldn't mind, could you four go and look for George? I hadn't told him I was here. I thought it would be a nice surprise,' Martha continued, trying to think of a way to talk to Thomas privately without it seeming too obvious.

'Of course,' Lafayette responded, jumping to his feet and dragging Hercules and John with him. Alex followed behind them, his feet like weights.

'How was that book, by the way? On the plane?' Martha teased Alex just as he was about to leave, Hamilton gulping nervously.

'I am _so_ sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude,' Alexander stuttered, scratching the back of his head nervously. 'I just, I don't like planes very much-'

'It's okay, sweetheart, I was just joking,' Martha smiled as Alexander nodded, still visibly anxious, before exiting the room.

* * *

 

Martha Washington always had a soft spot for Thomas Jefferson.

George (although never admitting it) clearly preferred Lafayette, the much more outgoing and less moody of the two.

Lafayette was a ray of sunshine, leaping around Mount Vernon, smiling and shouting and joking. Thomas was the opposite, and Martha understood why.

She had been similar when her first husband, Daniel had died years ago. She sat around just as he did, talked with the same despairing tone he did; yet, as soon as she picked herself up, she had met George. Her life had drastically improved.

She wanted the exact same to happen to Thomas.

'So,' Martha started, sitting on Thomas' bed in the dorm room, facing the Virginian teenager. 'How are you doing?'

There was a silence for a moment, before one sole response.

'I miss my parents.'

There are moments that the words don't reach, and moments you cannot even give consolation.

This was one of those moments.

They sat in a comfortable silence, as if they both perfectly understood what the other wanted to say but couldn't.

'I just didn't want people to _know_ ,' Thomas confessed quietly. 'Just wanted people to not talk about it. Everyone wants to talk about it, and I get that, but it would be so much easier if we all pretended it _didn't happen_. So that's what I'm doing. It's not happening. _It didn't happen._

But it was cool, when Alexander didn't know. He just treated me like everyone else, and now he knows, and I don't even get _that_ ,' Thomas' voice had rose significantly as he finished, getting off his bed and sitting on the chair by his desk. ''m sorry.'

Another moment that the words in Martha's mind simply could not reach Thomas.

'How's Angelica?' she asked instead.

'Oh, you know. Angelica,' he laughed slightly, a small smirk on his face, but his eyes still crestfallen.

The longer Martha looked at this boy she was supposed to be caring for, the more she _hated_ herself.

'Okay,' she announced, her voice filled with an unfamiliar sense of confidence. 'That's it. We're going back to Mount Vernon. George, Lafayette, you and Lafayette's friends, too, I suppose. It's Halloween tomorrow. You need time to clear your head. You _and_ your roommate.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so sorry for the lateness of this update, and I promise there'll be one tomorrow (a special Halloween one).


	15. Story of Tonight (Halloween Special)

Alexander Hamilton had never seen a place like Mount Vernon.

It spanned 500 acres (much more than Alexander thought was affordable on a teacher's salary), the main house towering over the small framed Alexander.

He couldn't help but stand still in awe as soon as he stepped out of the car that they had arrived in, unlike the rest of the boys. 

'You have to see my room, _mon ami,'_ Lafayette giggled happily, pushing Alexander slightly towards the door. 'It's cooler than Thomas'. His is all emo and-'

'Shut up, Laf,' Thomas hissed, coming up from behind Lafayette and nudging him harshly.

'Thomas,' George warned, his eyebrows raising at his two sons.

''s not my fault,' Thomas mumbled, walking in to the main house and slipping out of the group's sight.

'That boy,' Martha sighed resignedly, before turning to the excited French boy, who was whirling around the outside of the house. 'Are you planning to eat dinner tonight?'

Lafayette turned round to face his mother, an expression of complete shock spreading through his face as he stopped whirling

'Of course not. It's Halloween. I plan to fill four bags of candy, and eat at least one by midnight. I don't have room for dinner,' he stated nonchalantly. 'Wait, what time is it?'

'Uh, it's, uh, three,' John responded, checking his watch as horror washed over Lafayette's face.

'Three? In the _afternoon_?' Lafayette exclaimed, his words overflowing with incredible anxiety, as his head snapped desperately to take in his surroundings as if he was about to have a critical panic attack.

'Is there something wrong with that?' Alexander asked nervously, seconds before Lafayette threw the front door of Mount Vernon open and paced up the stairs with a speed that could easily be compared to a cheetah.

'He needs to get his costume together,' George Washington assured, placing a hand on Alexander's shoulder as he passed him. 'Remember to bring in your suitcases,' he finished, referring to the suitcases that all the boys had dragged with them to the gigantic estate. Alexander didn't have much in his, but just as you'd expect of Alexander Hamilton, most of what he did bring was incredibly heavy books.

He still stood confused with John and Hercules, who were standing outside with him talking about something along the lines of visiting houses.

'Hey, uh, John?' Alexander asked shyly, tugging on the boy's jacket. 'Why would Lafayette need a costume?'

John and Hercules stared at the Carribbean boy with a look of both amusement and utter bewilderment.

'For trick-or-treating,' the two boys chorused in response, their eyes peering at him like this was something he should know.

Alexander wasn't sure he heard them right.

Trick-or-treating?

'Is it like rick-rolling? Thomas always tells me that I've been rickrolled, but I don't know what that means?' Alexander stuttered out nervously.

Hercules collapsed with laughter at this response, while John just let out a small chuckle. 'No, it's, uh,' John struggled, doing his best to explain it, 'it's like you dress up in scary costumes, and you go around different houses, and they give you candy.'

Alexander stared at John in complete and total confusion. Why on _earth_ would you just give food away? Was everyone so rich they simply didn't need it? If some kids came up to his small, pokey home in Nevis dressed as monsters, he would have hit them, not _fed_ them. What ridiculous sort of people came up with this idea?

'But _why_?'

'I don't really know,' John confessed as Hercules was still bending over in a fit of laughter. 'It just... happens.'

'And it's called trick-or-treating?'

'Yeah.'

'...So, what's the trick?' Alexander continued, his anger growing at his inability to wrap his head around this.

'...I don't really know,' John confessed again. 'Look, just go along with it. Lafayette is super in to it, so we just pretend to be, too. It's fun. You'll like it.'

Alexander Hamilton wasn't the type of person to like things which didn't understand.

* * *

 

By 8.p.m. that evening, Lafayette was a vampire, Hercules was a zombie, John was a wizard, and Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson had been shoved in to ghost costumes.

Both of them didn't want to leave the house at all (mainly because Thomas was in a mood and Alexander was still in a complete awe), but Lafayette had thrown a sheet over both the boys and cut holes at the eyes and mouth, and threatened to suck their blood unless they agreed to come.

'You all look so scary,' Martha smothered, taking out a camera from a drawer in the kitchen as George Washington (who had thrown on a zombie doctor's uniform for the spirit of Halloween) arranged the boys for the photo.

'Martha? _I am wearing a sheet,'_ Thomas deadpanned, trying to avoid George's arrangement for the photo.

'Well, I think you look wonderful,' Martha smiled softly, taking the photo quickly before Thomas could move. She always stayed behind on Halloween, letting the boys go out trick-or-treating (she felt that anyone who travelled all the way to Mount Vernon deserved candy, and didn't want someone to not be at the house to give it to them).

' _Martha. I. Am. Wearing. A. Sheet,'_ Thomas stressed, frowning. 'At least it's not as long as Alexander's, sure, but it's still a sheet.'

Thomas had a point.

Thomas' sheet was lucky enough to only reach just under his knees, but Hamilton's sheet was pooled around his ankles.

'I still don't understand why I have to go,' Alexander protested. 'I don't understand what to do.'

'Because it's _fun_. Honestly, I'm glad I'm not smart if this is the amount of fun you two have.'

'You _are_ smart,' George assured, motioning the boys to the door. 'And we have to get going if you want to get that candy eaten by midnight.'

'Keep telling yourself that, dad,' Lafayette laughed, grabbing Hercules' arm and dragging him outside.

* * *

 

'Trick-or-treat!' John, Lafayette and Hercules exclaimed as soon as the door opened, and Alexander just stared at them, puzzled at why someone would give you free food after you just screamed in their face.

Thomas hung behind George, not bothering to show his face. They had drove to the closest neighborhood, where George was seemingly known by everyone.

'Oh, wow!' the woman at the door exclaimed, passing a bowl of candy around the boys. 'What, that's four boys this time?' she laughed, glancing at George.

'Five. There's one behind me,' George admitted, moving away to show Thomas' hunched form.

'You need to stop taking in all these kids, George. You're much too kind,' the woman joked, stretching out to offer the bowl to Thomas, who refused.

'Ha, got a tricky one there.'

' ** _Trust me, they're all tricky.'_**

* * *

 

'We need to go!' Lafayette shouted to the rest of the gang, shoving his second back of candy in the trunk of George's car.

'I thought your 'four bags of candy' thing was a joke,' Thomas moaned in anger, sitting on the curb of a street alongside George. John and Hercules were munching happily on the large collection of Skittles they collected, while Alexander was trying desperately to quiz George on his knowledge of this bizarre holiday.

'Was it a joke last year when we went trick-or-treating? No. And no offense, _mon frère,_ but you're letting me down by not getting any candy. Hell, even Alexander is getting candy, and he doesn't know what's happening.'

'I don't _want_ candy,' Thomas complained.

'Well, if you did a bag and I did a bag at the same time, and you just gave your bag to me, this whole thing would finish much quicker,' Lafayette argued, as the group fell silent at this surprise moment of genius.

'That,' Thomas admitted, 'isn't a bad idea.'

Nudging Jefferson, George Washington smirked proudly, 'I told you guys he was smart.'

* * *

 

As the group approached the front door of one of their final houses, they faced maybe one of the hardest moral dilemmas any man can face.

The candy bowl was outside the door, with a clear sign, reading simply: ' **TAKE ONE.' **

Now, George being the adult and moral compass of the group instructed the boys to do exactly what was instructed - only take one.

Alexander instantly hated the sign ordering him what to do, and instead took one while George was watching and sneaked another when his back was turned.

John, being as obedient as an old, trustworthy dog, took one, just as Hercules did after him.

Lafayette, while being a very wholesome and overall innocent child, probably would have took one if it was any other item; but it was candy, and he figured that was a temptation that you simply _can't_ fight, and took seven pieces, much to George's disapproval.

Thomas waited until the rest of the group was halfway down the driveway before taking the bowl and pouring the whole thing in to his bag.

* * *

 

'Son, if you get sick tomorrow, remember I warned you,' George insisted to Lafayette as they pulled back in to Mount Vernon, who had his mouth stuffed with all the candy imaginable.

'Rwighpht, dyad,' Lafayette forced out, chewing his way through the candy filling his mouth.

'At least your brother is sensible,' George announced, getting out of the car to see Thomas shoving a Mars bar in his mouth.

'Sowwy, Geurge,' Thomas grinned slightly as Alexander sniggered, before tripping over his 'ghost costume', nearly making Thomas spit out the chocolate with laughter.

The boys crowded in to the main house, yelling a chorus of 'Hey, Martha!' before pouring in to the living room and emptying their bags of candy. Martha watched them quietly as George approached her, smiling at his wife.

'Did you get many trick-or-treaters?' George quizzed, glancing at the children as Thomas and Lafayette fought over their winnings playfully.

'Seven. How was your night out?'

'Oh, you know the boys,' George laughed.

'Well, Thomas looks much happier,' Martha smiled, glancing at the Virginian boy who was quietly taking the other boy's chocolate and shoving it in his own pile.

'You know, I think the poor lad hangs around with the wrong people in school,' George mumbled quietly. 'He'd be much happier hanging around with the rest of our boys.'

''Our boys?'' Martha mocked, causing George to blush.

'Well, they might as well be,' he stuttered out, trying to take back his words.

'You're taking my candy,' Lafayette huffed, staring at his decreasing pile compared to Thomas' mountain.

'I'm not,' Thomas defended innocently. 'I'm just not eating as mu- _**Lafayette**_!'

George and Martha stared at their boys as Lafayette vomitted all over their floor, before George turned to Martha, groaning one statement.

'Why didn't we have daughters?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the Halloween episode! Sorry it's so late, but it's one of the longer chapters.


	16. Apologies (Author's Note)

Apologies for lack of updates. I'm sort of struggling with writing currently, but I'll try and get something out soon enough...sorry for the delay!


	17. The Only Common Thread Has Been Your Disrespect

Alexander Hamilton had never failed a test in his life.

Well.

Not until this moment.

After Halloween, school had tumbled back in to a steady rhythm. Tests and tests piled up on the boys, and although Thomas, John and Alexander studied, Lafayette and Hercules spent most of their days skipping classes and playing Kerplunk (which they were both freakishly good at, to the point that they were discussing starting a championship so they could win it).

The results of these tests were coming back rapidly, and although Alexander had strings of 97%, it was a completely different story with one subject.

British Literature.

Alexander didn't even think he had done _too bad_ in British Literature. Sure, he wasn't expecting 100%, but he was expecting at least a 93.

Alexander Hamilton _did not_ get a 93.

'56%!'

The small Carribbean boy roared, slamming the door of his dorm room with the force of a wild pack of buffalo. A group of three boys hung behind him, trying to comfort the beast that was an angry Alexander.

' **Bullsh*t!** I did not get a 56. That teacher knew nothing. This is atrocious. A travesty. We need to contact the school bo-'

'I got 23%, _mon ami_ , stop whining,' Lafayette teased, patting his friend patronisingly on the shoulder as he glided in to the room with Hercules.

'Yeah, I mean, 56 isn't even that bad. That's more than half the questions right,' John tried to comfort Alexander, who was still scowling as he collapsed on to his bed.

'Half isn't nowhere near good enough,' Alex moaned, glancing over at his roommate who remained silent at his desk. 'Hey, Thomas, what did you get?'

Thomas Jefferson glanced over his desk, staring at the test he had received an hour ago.

100%.

In fairness, he had studied. A lot. _A lot._

'Um. 48%,' Thomas responded, desperately trying to sound convincing as he hid the test away.

'See? You did better than Thomas,' Hercules smiled, sitting himself down beside Alexander. 'That's impressive. And if Thomas didn't do well, I bet the average is super low.'

'That's not the issue. _Burr_ got 64%,' Alexander seemed to spit Burr's name, as if it was poison in his mouth. ' _Burr_. Burr, of all people. Now he's going to mention that before every debate. I'm never going to live that down. And I have debate today. It's going to be awful.'

'Hey, one time, I was in a Christmas play for my school, and I was Mary, and it got really hot on stage, and I fainted. Just collapsed on stage. That's something you can't live down, not a test,' John assured Alexander, mumbling nervously.

 

A silence filled the room as John felt four sets of eyes on him.

 

'You were _Mary_?' Thomas sniggered. 'What was it, an all boy's school?'

'Yes. Definitely. Of course,' John laughed nervously, looking away from Alexander's judgemental roommate. 'Anyway. Burr isn't going to say anything. And if he does, I bet Thomas will stand up for you. Right?'

Thomas shrugged noncommittally, before turning back to his computer on his desk.

* * *

 

Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr had...history. Aaron had moved to Virginia temporarily during 6th grade, and was stuck there for one year until he moved back to New Jersey.

It was the first year of middle school, so luckily for Aaron, he wasn't the only new person in the school.

Not that Aaron Burr liked many of his classmates - sure, he was neutral towards them, but he didn't go out of his way to try and be friends of him - but there was someone he did find interesting in his class.

Thomas Jefferson.

They were similar, in most ways.

Thomas was a bit more mouthy and snappy, but they had the same level of intelligence (or, Burr liked to think they did). It didn't take long for them to become companions of sorts.

They hung around playgrounds, reading books quietly, not really bothering to communicate with each other or any other student, but enjoying the company that the other brought.

They worked together, they ate together, and eventually they ran for student council together.

They were similar, in most ways.

Competitive, more than anything in this world.

Except the difference between the two boys was while Thomas had some hidden morals, Aaron had some morals that must have been deeply, _deeply_ hidden.

'He's _useless_ ,' Burr had declared proudly in his speech as Thomas stood at the side, waiting to give his in own one to convince people to vote for him. 'I'm way above him - I only hang around with him because I pity him. I'm just trying to be nice, you know. He doesn't have many friends. He's a bit of a loner.'

Thomas stood still, shell-shocked at his 'friend''s speech, trying to avoid an outpour of tears.

Thomas couldn't.

He didn't give his speech, and he didn't run for student council again. He didn't speak to Burr, either - Burr had a new gaggle of friends.

Thomas didn't need _him_.

Thomas didn't need anyone.

When Burr moved back to New Jersey, relief flood over Thomas like a tidal wave at the relief of hopefully never having to see Burr again.

A matter of years later, Burr and Thomas ended up in Mount Vernon Boarding School together, rivalling each other in a variety of different clubs.

Thomas never forgave Aaron Burr, and he didn't plan to any time soon.

* * *

 

Aaron Burr didn't show up to the debate, much to Alex's relief.

Without Burr, there was no challenge in the debates, and Alex eased through it at a lightning speed.

But it wasn't just Burr that didn't show up - Thomas was nowhere to be seen either. Washington was surprised at this too, interrogating Alex gently on Thomas' whereabouts, but Alexander couldn't give any answers. Alex and Thomas had become close recently. Alex would go as far to call him a good friend, but he didn't admit to it, in case Thomas felt differently.

As the hours passed, Alexander's worry grew like a plant in bright sunlight.

Even after curfew, Thomas hadn't returned to the room.

Alex visited Madison to see if he had seen Thomas, and Madison wasn't there either.

When he went to ask Lafayette, _he_ wasn't there either.

Hercules just shrugged and refused to tell Alexander anything, and John was probably equally as clueless as Alexander.

Alexander studied all night, waiting for Thomas to come in to the room and fill it with the usual snarky remarks.

 

And Thomas did come in to the room.

 

His face covered in bruises and bleeding from more places than you can imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait.  
> I've been swamped down with constant tests, much like Alexander. Let's just hope I don't get a 56%...  
> I will be moving on to a different arc (probably more focused around Laurens and his past and his relationship with Alexander) but I just want to establish the hatred between Burr and Jefferson and the reasoning behind it.


	18. There Is No Beat, No Melody

Lafayette stared at his opponent eagerly, his mouth curving at both sides and widening exponentially; lifting his victim with ease as he enjoyed his private victory-

'Eat the damn bagel, you idiot,' his brother scowled at him, his fingers drumming the small café table impatiently.

The café was quiet - just as cafés typically were in the middle of the night - and only the quiet humming of a fridge or a freezer echoed through the room.

Lafayette stubbornly set the bagel down, returning a scowl to Thomas Jefferson. 'If you didn't want to come, you didn't _have_ to,' the French boy stated proudly, turning his head to the side, as if he was too offended to look at Thomas.

'I _didn't_ , you pulled me out of Algebra yelling some nonsense about grave danger,' the Virginian child retorted, 'and I followed because I thought there was grave danger. We've been here two hours. And that was after you dragged me around town for hours on end. I have work, you know-'

'There was grave danger. I was hungry,' Lafayette huffed like a five year old child, tossing the bagel into his mouth to prove his point. 'See? Hungry.'

Thomas frowned at his brother, before turning away from him and looking out the front window of that café dully. The darkness crept from out the window in to the room, a small yellow light the only thing saving the boys from the black.

As Thomas heard the constant chewing come to a close, he turned to his brother who was grinning like a madman at him, his bagel nowhere to be seen.

'Can we go?' Thomas begged, standing up from his seat, his chair scraping the floor like nails on a chalkboard.

' _Oui_ , _oui_. Hey, can we go to the supermarket?' was the hopeful response from Lafayette, following his frustrated sibling to the door.

'No.'

'Why not?'

'It's 11:27p.m.'

'There's a 24 hour supermarket three blocks away.'

'Laf, we're not even supposed to be out of grounds without permission at any time, never mind near midnight,' Thomas responded, his voice filled with exasperation.

He threw the door of the café open, the cold air filling is lungs with ease.

'I need some stuff,' Lafayette responded in a sing-song tone, his voice still filled with hope.

'What sort of stuff?' Thomas' reply was filled with suspicion.

'You know. **_Stuff_** ,' Lafayette smirked, raising his eyebrows.

'Okay, we can go as long as you shut up,' Thomas spat out instantly. 'I do not want to hear about you and Hercules' sex life again.'

* * *

 

After the trip to the convenience store (which Thomas ensured was kept brief), the two brothers retreated to the school grounds quietly, slipping through the back gates to remain out of sight.

'Sorry about making you miss debate,' Lafayette murmured, his fingers wrapped tightly around the handles of the plastic bags. The two boys footsteps were light, the only sound that could be heard was the wind that blew around the school building.

Thomas glanced at his 'brother', nodding solemnly, 'It's okay.'

Lafayette smiled softly at his apology being accepted.

Although they weren't the type of brothers to go out of their way to show any sort of affection, they both knew tha-

'Well, well,' a voice came from several yards in front of them.

Thomas squinted to try and make out the figure - and while he made out the shape, he couldn't pinpoint who exactly it was.

He glanced cautiously at his brother, who simply continued walking forward as if he hadn't heard anything.

Knowing Lafayette, he probably hadn't.

'Hey, it's the French boy. Does _Daddy_ Washington know you're out here?' the distant voice continued to tease, Lafayette ignoring him and walking toward the figure merrily.

Thomas' brain ran a mile.

He recognised the voice now.

He also recognised the figure coming towards them.

'Hey, Laf, wait-' Thomas stuttered, his motion pausing, his feet glued to the ground. He felt his head spinning as the figure drew closer.

'Hmm?' Lafayette turned around quizzically.

Thomas rarely stuttered. He was a man of sarcastic remarks and a quick-witted attitude. Stuttering was not something Thomas would do unless-

* * *

 

Lafayette fell to the ground as Burr's punch to his face shook him to the core.

Burr towered over Lafayette, a confident, cocky smirk curving around his lips, before drawing his eyes to Thomas Jefferson, who stood patiently, his eyes filling quickly with anger.

There was no beat, no melody.

'Washington can't help you now,' was Burr's last remark, before Thomas threw himself at Aaron Burr in a fit of rage.

They punched.

They kicked.

They fought.

They threw each other around like komodo dragons trying to tackle each other to the ground, their faces darkening with frustration.

Eventually, Lafayette recovered his senses, and, grabbing his brother's leg, pulled him out from under Burr's grip.

Looking at Thomas' face, Lafayette was glad to have had one punch.

Thomas' face was covered in bruises, his nose bleeding, and the more he looked at it, the more Lafayette was convinced that Thomas' nose was broken.

' _Merde_ ,' Lafayette muttered, gripping on to his brother and pulling him up.

The shopping bags that the two were holding had been flung across the area, and Thomas struggled to gain his composure as Lafayette supported him.

Burr stared at the two of them in anger, his face covered in scrapes, blood dripping down his face.

'Hey, Aaron, do you need hel-' the French boy offered nervously, only getting a snort as a reply.

'@#&£+ off,' Aaron laughed manically, despair seeping through his tone.

'Should I call someon-'

'I told you, **@# &£+ off**!' Aaron Burr's voice rose to a yell as Lafayette picked up the shopping bags before retreating softly with his brother by his side.

* * *

 

'I can walk,' Thomas smiled weakly, trying to push off his brother, who was having none of it.

'No way,' Lafayette chuckled lightly, as if he was gasping for breath, a hint of worry in his voice. 'Hey, are you sure you don't need medical attention?'

Thomas didn't reply for a moment, which sent Laf in to a state of panic, 'Thomas? _Thomas_?'

'I'm fine,' Thomas spat out softly, the edge of his voice lost. His darkened expression had lightened, no longer filled with rage, but more a sense of relief.

'Can you just drop me off at my room? Alex should be there, I'll be fine,' Thomas begged hopefully. Alex might be asleep, if he got lucky. He might be able to walk in the room without much of a fuss.

Lafayette looked at his brother, before nodding, and continuing his passage down the corridor of dorm rooms as quietly as possible.

'I'll be fine from here,' Tom murmured, pushing Lafayette away gently as his dorm room approached.

'Thomas-'

'I'll be fine.'

'About Burr-'

'He doesn't matter.'

'But-'

'Thanks, Laf. But it _doesn't_ matter. It's okay. I have new friends now. Cooler ones, too,' Thomas insisted gently, a distant in his voice that Lafayette couldn't place. 'It's okay. I'm okay.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god.   
> I am sorry for the wait.   
> See, the thing is, I really want to do a Christmas update, but I think I'll be rushing it if it's suddenly the next chapter.   
> So, there'll be an update every day until the 26th? Because I need to cover some stuff. And I want more Lams.
> 
> Anyway, this was more of a backstory behind why our good man Thomas came into the dorm room looking like a dead pig. Just needed it covered.


	19. Have Lafayette take the lead!

Alexander Hamilton went to sleep with a feeling of unease, and he woke up with an endless pit in his stomach.

There were numerous reasons - one, because Alex was innately an anxious person, two, because Alex had a History test today and hadn't revised properly out of worry, and three, Thomas Jefferson was not waking up.

Before Alexander came to this school, he would have been concerned more about reason two, but as he tried to shake his roommate desperately awake, his mind dwelled on reason three.

Thomas Jefferson was not waking up.

Alexander looked helplessly at his roommate, his mind shifting to his mother. This was similar to how he found her - asleep, in a tattered bed, her eyes shut softly.

Except she didn't wake up.

Alexander prayed silently that Thomas would.

* * *

 

'Sir Mr. Washington?' Alex stuttered, stumbling in to his classroom, tripping over his feet and falling down in a matter seconds. ' _Shi_ \- sorry, sir, I didn't mean to trip, sir.'

Washington looked up from his desk, a smile of amusement on his face at the clumsiness of the boy, which quickly faded as he realised who was in the classroom.

The only students that came in to his classroom before classes started were typically teenage boys that were out smoking weed all night and couldn't do their homework, and as far as Washington was concerned, that probably wasn't Alex's situation.

Maybe the boy was drunk.

Thomas had... _bad_ nights, and would often go out and do 'illegal things' if he was hanging out with a bad crowd at those times.

Maybe he had a bad night, and Alexander had been roped into it.

The poor boy was probably impressionable, there wasn't much of a social scene on Nevis, and-

'Sir Washington, sir?' Alexander stumbled verbally, his hands twitching with nerves.

Washington looked up to see the boy standing up from his fall, and instantly focused on the situation.

'Alex. Yes. What's wrong?' Washington asked, trying best to hide the worry in his voice. Adults are supposed to be stable, they're supposed to not worry about these sorts of unknowns - and Washington was a grown man, for crying out loud.

He was a grown man.

He had control of this situation.

He had control.

'I tried to wake up Thomas this morning, and he just... wasn't?' Alexander's body tensed up, and his words vomited out from his mouth in a nervous cluster, 'I tried to shake him, and I tried for a few hours, and by the way, I might not do too well on the test today because - well, I revised, I spent the night revising - but Thomas didn't come back, and I got worried, and I went to check on Lafayette, but he wasn't there either and Thomas-'

'Slow down,' Washington chuckled, the edge in his voice becoming more apparent by the second. 'Thomas is a deep sleeper. He always has been.'

'I really shaked him, though,' Alexander defended, still unable to hold his words in. 'I was going to yell in his ear, but it's 7 in the morning and I thought it would be slightly disrespectful, so I didn't, but I hit him softly with a book- sir, I didn't mean to hit your son, I'm sorry-'

'Don't apologize, son. Look,' Washington said softly, 'I'll go with you and try and wake him. He's probably fine.'

* * *

 

Washington stared cluelessly at his son lying in the typical dorm bed fast asleep.

'I thought you said that you hit him with the book _lightly_ ,' the teacher remarked, a frightened yet suspicious look growing on his face. Thomas Jefferson's face was covered in more bruises than he could count, and under his nose was a large volume of dried blood. 'He looks pretty beat up to me. What book was it? I know Thomas deserves a good hit sometimes, son, but this is a bit _too_ far-'

Alexander stood back in horror, his anxiety leaving him within a second to protect his honour. 'I didn't do that! I swear! We weren't even arguing, I wouldn't even have the sort of power to do that much - look at me, I'm barely tall enough to get on some rollercoaster rides. I swear, sir.'

George Washington nodded, his eyes flashing with guilt, 'I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean it like that,' he tried to shake his son awake, but failed, and punished himself privately for it, 'Do you know what happened?'

'I - he - I don't know, sir,' he admitted, already despising himself. He knew most things. He should know this. 'He just came in to the room last night. I tried to ask him some stuff, but he just groaned and collapsed on the bed. I didn't think much of it. I thought he'd just wake up-'

'It's okay,' Washington soothed, trying to gain control of not just the situation, but also himself, 'You said Lafayette was missing?'

Alexander nodded wordlessly, his feet shuffling with nerves.

'Maybe you could go ask him if he knows anything before classes start,' the teacher suggested. 'I'm going to get the nurse. He has a pulse, so he's still alive. He might just be knocked out cold, son.'

All Alexander could do was nod helplessly, before rushing out of the dorm room to look for his French friend.

George glanced guiltily at his adoptive son, before shaking himself hesitantly of his self deprecating thoughts to focus on the boy.

* * *

 

'Herc, hey, have you seen La-' Alexander panted, standing outside Hercules and Lafayette's doorway in a panic.

Hercules rolled his eyes whole he opened the door fully, before muttering, 'Get out while you still can, he's gone nuts-'

' **IS THAT ALEX? BRING HIM IN, LOVE, BRING HIM IN,'** Alexander heard Lafayette's voice exclaim as loud banging accompanied him.

'What's happen-' Alex started, yet couldn't finish as he took in the sight.

Pieces of paper were flung across the floor of the room, words scribbled on them in a language that could only be described as a dreadful mix of French and English.

The pages were also littered with doodles, groups of stickmen seemingly armed and attacking some sort of evil monster stickman.

Lafayette stood on his bed, scribbling something on a cork board with such speed that even Alex couldn't challenge it.

 _'Mon ami_ ,' Lafayette smiled breathlessly, turning his head round momentarily to glance at the stunned, small squirt of a Carribbean boy. 'We're going to have such fun-'

'I'm pretty sure Thomas is in a coma?' Alexander questioned nervously, deciding that if he broke the news now, it would probably have less of an effect on the energised Lafayette.

' ** _EXACTLY_**!' Lafayette exclaimed, before drawing his voice to a quiet whisper, but with the intensity still present, 'We shall avenge my brother!'

'He's not _dead_ , Laf,' Hercules moaned, standing beside Alexander. 'You have no clue, Alex. I've been hearing this since early in the morning. He's high on caffeine.'

 **'I AM HIGH ON AVENGING MY DEAD BROTHER, MR. HERCULES I'M-TOO-SEXY-TO-AVENGE-PEOPLE MULLIGAN,** ' Lafayette yelled, tossing the cork board on to the floor dramatically.

Alexander and Hercules flinched at the impact.

' **NOW, ALEXANDER, GET YOUR BOYFRIEND-'**

'I don't have one.'

' **HONEST TO GOD, CAN BOTH YOU AND JOHN NOT READ SIGNALS? GET YOUR BOYFRIEND. CHOP CHOP. BURR NEEDS TO GO DOWN.'**

'Wait - Burr? Aaron Burr?'

' **GET LOVER BOY. I'LL EXPLAIN WHEN YOU GET BACK,'** Lafayette teased, raising his hands up and down with such flair that would convince you he was performing an opera, and not standing in a boarding school dorm room plotting revenge on Aaron Burr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue where this is going anymore but let's just hope it's somewhere that makes sense.


End file.
